


The Bone Man

by inspiration_assaulted



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Harry Potter, Father Voldemort, M/M, New Indentity, Powerful Harry, Runes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-02 03:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 56,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inspiration_assaulted/pseuds/inspiration_assaulted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter disappears from the Hogwarts Express at the end of his fifth year. The Light thinks he is dead. They're right, in a way, but also so very, very wrong. What has the boy who was once Harry Potter become?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Rise of the Bone Man

**Author's Note:**

> "Speaking"  
> 'thoughts'  
> //Mental voice//  
> \twin bond\  
> ~Parseltongue~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This story is in the process of being rewritten (though rather slowly). I wrote The Bone Man very quickly and I was overflowing with ideas, so some of it reads very slapdash to me. I am now undertaking the long and arduous process of reworking and refining these ideas. However, don't let that stop you, dear readers, from enjoying this story as it is! If you enjoy the story, though, look out for the new version in the coming months, Knucklebones.

Albus Dumbledore paced his office. The portraits followed him with their eyes, each of them straining to hear what he was muttering to himself. One of them had even taken out an ear trumpet.

“…gone…wards, how did he…disappeared from the Platform…”

The subject of Albus’s distress was a missing fifteen-year-old boy. The boy had last been seen on the train home from Hogwarts, but had disappeared by the time the train had reached Platform 9 ¾. That had been in early June. It was now nearly July.

Losing the boy put Albus in rather a bind, since the boy had been groomed since the age of eleven to serve the illustrious Headmaster. The boy was the perfect weapon, and Albus needed him back under his control.

The boy was Harry Potter.

*** ***

Just beyond Unst, the furthest outreach of the Shetland Islands, past the Muckle Flugga lighthouse, the sea batters against a large chunk of bare rock that juts out of the sea. No plants grew on it, as it was constantly buffeted by winds, rain, and waves. To most people, there is no exciting feature of the Out Stack.

Most people would be wrong.

On the large rock, where most people only saw the occasional puffin, stood a small, circular stone hut. If most people could see the hut, no doubt it would become a local curiosity. The hut had no door, but the smoke rising from the chimney in the center of the cone-like roof gave evidence that someone did indeed live there.

The hut belonged to a boy with dark hair and an even darker soul.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Lord Voldemort swept into his study, frustrated with the low quality of his followers. Some of them were moderately powerful, but they were all so self-serving! They reminded him of a bunch of puppies, climbing over each other just to be petted a little by their master.

And they had no real loyalty to him! He knew that, if he were to fall the next day, most of them would rush to make excuses to the Ministry about being forced to support him.

Lord Voldemort needed better followers. But he would settle for what he had.

The Dark Lord flopped into his chair in a surprisingly ungraceful movement. He could be casual when his little minions weren’t watching, after all. He propped his head against one hand and began to sort through his papers with the other. All of them were dull, boring, tedious. Just as he was about to be done, _finally_ , he found an envelope addressed to him.

_Tom Marvolo Riddle_

_The Dark Lord Voldemort_

Curious and angry that someone would dare address him by the Muggle name he had work for so many years to change, he opened it. Inside was another envelope, addressed to Lucius Malfoy, and a short note.

_Lord Voldemort,_

_I wish to ally with you. I will not reveal my identity to you in a letter, as there is a possibility it may fall into the hands of the Light. However, I will say that I am very powerful, possibly as powerful as you and certainly stronger than Albus Dumbledore, and have very…unique skills that I would be happy to offer to your cause. I find boasting vulgar and distasteful, so you may be assured that I speak the truth about my power._

_I understand that you will be wary of meeting someone who will not reveal his identity. Indeed, I would be disappointed if you were not. Therefore, I believe it would be best for me to meet one of your followers first, instead of meeting directly with you._

_Included is a letter for Lucius Malfoy. It will open for no one else. It contains Apparition coordinates and a time and date for a meeting. The coordinates are charmed so that only Lord Malfoy may see them, as my location is under a strong Fidelius Charm. If Lord Malfoy will meet with me, I will send him back to you with a sign of my trustworthiness and willingness to serve you. I hope to see him at the specified date._

_Sincerely,_

_Bone Man_

Everything about the note was strange. Somewhere there was a strange, unknown, and very powerful Dark wizard willing to serve him. He had never heard of a Bone Man, but it was clearly an alias. This man went to a great deal of trouble to stay anonymous.

And the letter was written in Parseltongue.

“Lucius!”

*** ***

Lucius Malfoy was afraid.

As a rule, Malfoys did not admit to fear. However, any rule can be broken in exceptional circumstances.

These were certainly exceptional circumstances.

His Lord had been contacted by a mysterious and powerful supporter who would only meet with him. It certainly didn’t make it easier that the man would only meet with him at midnight on the night of the new moon. With five minutes until midnight, Lucius apparated to the coordinates he had been given.

He appeared on a rock rising from the sea, immediately chilled to the bone by the wind and spray. Before him was a little, round hut with no door.

‘At least he’s consistently mysterious,’ Lucius thought to himself. Unable to find a clear way in, he placed his palm on the wall of the hut. An invisible force pulled him through the stone wall.

Inside, a low fire was burning, filling the interior with a smoky warmth that was welcome after the frigid wind outside. Opposite him sat a figure shrouded in a black robe, hands tucked into sleeves. A hood and cowl obscured the figure’s face.

Immediately, Lucius felt a pressure on his mind. Frantically, he threw up his strongest Occlumency shields. A sense of amusement came from the invading force as it swept away his barriers and settled across his mind like a thick blanket. Unlike any Legilimency he had ever felt, it did not search through his thoughts or memories, but merely asserted its presence in his mindscape.

//Welcome, Lord Malfoy. Please, sit and warm yourself.//

The thought-voice was masculine, and the tone conveyed that the speaker made a demand, not a request. Lucius sat. He wondered how to speak with this wizard. He had no impression that he was listening to his thoughts, so Lucius decided to speak aloud.

“I take it I am addressing the Bone Man.” The shrouded head inclined once.

//Indeed, you are. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. Has your Lord sent you with questions?//

 “Of course. The Dark Lord is very curious about how such a supposedly powerful Dark wizard escaped his notice. He also wishes to know more about your specific powers, the ones you seem to believe are ‘unique.’”

The Bone Man’s mental presence was amused again. It seemed Lucius had stumbled upon a private joke.

//I spoke the truth. I have yet to meet someone as strong as I am. Will you really doubt my power while I am in your mind? You are no weak Occlumens, and yet, here I am.//

Lucius inclined his head in apology. It was true. With the Bone Man in his mind, he could feel the strength and darkness of his magic. He had never felt anything like it, and the blond man suspected it was only a fraction of the Bone Man’s full power. They would gain the upper hand in the war very quickly if this man would join his Lord.

“My apologies. What of your particular skills?”

//I know you are looking for a demonstration, Lord Malfoy, but I’m afraid I can’t do that. I believe Lord Voldemort would like his trusted follower back in one piece.// Lucius frowned. //However, tell your Lord that I am…a bit of a specialist with souls. I trained under the Dementors of Azkaban, before they joined him. If you give him this, I believe it will serve as proof of my skills.//

The figure did not move, but the stone next to him began to boil. Out rose a small box made of a dark wood. The box floated gently to the Death Eater. It felt hollow, but appeared seamless, as though made of a single block of wood.

//Tell your Lord that it will only respond to Parseltongue. Inside is the sign I promised him. If he wishes to reply to my letter, he need only tell the box to return to me. I’m afraid owls cannot find me here.//

“I will tell him. Can I not convince you to tell me your name?”

//I am the Bone Man. That is the name I prefer, not the name I was born with. Your Lord will understand. Safe travels, Lord Malfoy.//

The dismissal in the statement was clear. Lucius felt the presence withdraw from his mindscape. It left him feeling oddly cold and exposed, like having a warm blanket taken away in the middle of the night. He rose and bowed. The Bone Man bowed his shrouded head in return.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

“You can tell me nothing more, Lucius?”

“No, my Lord.”

Lord Voldemort was determined to have the Dark wizard as his follower. From the blond Death Eater’s report and his memories of the meeting, this Bone Man was like no one the world had ever seen. Not even the Dark Lord, with all his knowledge and research, had heard of the Dementors taking a wizard as an apprentice. He truly was unique. Voldemort dismissed the elder Malfoy, turning his attention to the box he had brought back from his trip to the North Sea.

~Open,~ he hissed. With a green light similar to the Killing Curse, the wood split and the lid flipped back, revealing its contents: a letter, addressed in the same manner as the first, and a pendant on a long silver chain.

The pendant was made of a light-weight white substance that, after a moment, he realized was bone. It was shaped like a lightning bold and carved all over with tiny runes. It was not until he touched it that the Dark Lord realized it was a Horcrux.

His Horcrux.

Angrily, Voldemort ripped open the letter, again written in Parseltongue, searching for an explanation. How could this unknown man know about his Horcruxes?! They were his greatest secret!

_Lord Voldemort,_

_I am sure you are searching for answers now. How did the pendant come to be one of your Horcruxes? Why do you have no memory of making it?_

_The pendant is not the original container, but it is a better one. It is not one of the soul pieces you are thinking of, either. This one was created accidentally when the Killing Curse was reflected at you on the night you attempted to kill Harry Potter. This fragment broke off and attached itself to Harry Potter himself. It was the cause of the singular connection you two shared. My training with the Dementors allowed me to locate this soul fragment and place it in the pendant._

_Do not ask how I know about you and Harry Potter. I will give you no answers._

_If you will accept me as an ally, I will meet with you at midnight on the next new moon at your residence at Malfoy Manor. To respond, place your letter to me in the box and ask it to return to me. Remember, it will only respond to Parseltongue._

_Sincerely,_

_Bone Man_

_PS- I have strengthened the Horcrux with life-force I took while with the Dementors_

*** ***

Voldemort paced his private sitting room at Malfoy Manor. It was five minutes to midnight on the night of the new moon. He was anxious about the arrival of the Bone Man and trying to distract himself by think about Potter.

The boy had vanished from the Hogwarts Express almost two months ago. The Light was claiming he had been taken by Death Eaters. With no sign of their Savior, most of the wizarding world was in mourning. The Dark was celebrating, albeit very quietly.

Voldemort, however, was puzzled. He knew none of his people had captured or killed the boy. If Potter had gone into hiding, he was very good at it. Albus Dumbledore was not the only one to search for the boy, but neither he nor Voldemort had found the boy.

The whole situation was exceedingly strange.

Then there was this man, the Bone Man, who had rescued his Horcrux from Potter himself! Did this wizard know where Potter was?

The Dark Lord was shaken out of his thoughts by the clock on the mantle tolling twelve and the silent arrival of the Bone Man himself.

He wore the same black robe as with Lucius. He stood before Voldemort with his hands tucked into his sleeves, bowed head hooded and cowled. Voldemort felt the same presence meet his mind as Lucius had describe. Determined to foil this strange wizard and prove his own strength, his put up his strongest Occlumency shields. Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape together could not have broken them.

The Bone Man swept them aside.

//An admirable attempt, Lord Voldemort, but the Bone Man does not speak aloud. Good evening.//

Voldemort now understood what Lucius had meant. The Bone Man’s presence was not searching. It was not invasive or painful. His mind settled over the Dark Lord’s like the softest and lightest of blankets. It was warm and soothing. He almost didn’t want it to leave his mind.

“Bone Man, it is good to meet you at last. You made quite the impression on Lucius.” The thought-voice chuckled with dark amusement.

//The impression would have been even greater had he known my true identity. That would shock even you.//

Voldemort sighed. The Bone Man seemed determine to drive him to insanity with curiosity.

“You keep a great many secrets, Bone Man. Now, I believe you wished to speak about joining my cause?”

//I wished to speak about an alliance, yes. I could be a great asset to the Dark, but I will only do it on my terms. I will not be one of your Marked servants. None of your Death Eaters could hope to be my equal, and I will not lower myself to their level.//

“Of course. I can make you second only to myself, if you prove to be worthy.” Voldemort would not accept this unknown man without a demonstration of his power.

//I also want command of the Dementors. Those at Azkaban already considered me their Wizard-Lord. They will accept me easily and offer true loyalty to me.//

Voldemort frowned, thoughtful. Command of the Dementors was a big demand. If they would be loyal to the Bone Man over him, there was no way to keep them if he should turn against their side. He would need a lot in return.

“What can you offer me?”

//I offer my loyalty. Unlike most of your followers, I will not turn away from you to save myself. I am Dark, and I will always be Dark. Of course, I also offer my power and skill with souls.//

“I will not accept you unless you tell me your name and show me this ‘power’ you say you have.”

//If you have a prisoner in your dungeon, I can give you a demonstration tonight. My name, however…I will only tell you the name I was born with, and you must swear to keep it secret. I have renounced that name. I wish to be called Gallus Hadrian Black now. I am Lord Black.//

Voldemort made the oath quickly, eager to know who this powerful man was. As he spoke the binding words, the Bone Man reached up and slowly lowered his hood.

The first thing Voldemort noticed was his age. He was young, young enough to still be in school. He was pale and had dark hair cropped close to his head, almost shaved. His eyes were piercing and intense, the eerie color of the Killing Curse. A faint glow, the same color, seemed to come from his skin. There was a distinctive scar on his forehead that was a faded silvery color.

Lord Voldemort had found Harry Potter.

*** ***

Harry smirked at the feeling of shock filling Lord Voldemort’s mind.

//Am I a surprise, Tom?//

“Potter…?”

//Yes. Congratulations, you just found Harry Potter. Will you accept him at your side now?//

Shock was mixing with confusion in the Dark Lord’s mind. He needed to move on to his little show before Voldemort got too side-tracked with dull questions about where he had been and when he had turned Dark and all.

//You wanted a demonstration, I believe? If you will fetch your prisoner, I will meet you in the rose garden.// Not allowing the older man time to respond, Harry replaced his hood and left the room on silent feet.

The night air was crisp and the sky clear. It was dark without the light of the moon, but those were the nights Harry liked most. Searching out the rose garden, he found an open space perfect for his needs. Throwing aside his robe, he stood barefoot and naked except for a pair of tailored trousers hemmed at his knees. When he felt Voldemort’s approach with a prisoner, he began to prepare his magic.

Bone Man was not a name he chose by coincidence. He had spent the first week of summer doing a very dangerous ritual. As a result, thousands of tiny runes were inscribed directly onto his bones, from his skull and spine to the tarsals in his feet and the tiny bones in his ears. When he fed his power into the runes, the glowed through his skin with an Avada Kedavra green color. His eyes glowed even brighter, but his pupils expanded until the color was only a thin ring. At his full power, he looked like a glowing green skeleton made of tiny runic spells.

Bone Man indeed.

Keeping some of his presence in Voldemort’s mind, Harry turned to the woman he had been brought. Easing his way into her, he changed the feeling he gave her. This was a trick the Dementors had taught him. Unlike the creatures, he did not actually feed on her happiness, but the feeling she got was the same.

As she began to shake and cry, Harry turned the happiness he pulled from her into pure energy, storing it away in his core. When the good emotions ran out, Harry instead pulled the magical energy straight from her core into his. He decided he should probably tell Voldemort what he was doing, since most of it wasn’t visible.

//The effect in her mind is the same as being surrounded by Dementors. I can pull the happiness from her. When that runs out, I can empty her core. Then, out comes her soul.// As he spoke, the two watched the tiny ball of light that was her soul emerge into the night air and drift toward Harry.

“What do you do with the soul?” Curiosity and amazement were drifting in waves through the Dark Lord’s mind. Harry turned and gave him a grin.

//I turn it all into pure energy. I’ll even give this one to you, just to show you I’m serious about joining you.//

Harry pulled the witches soul into his core, converting it, before forcing it through his mental presence and into Voldemort’s core. He saw the older man shudder at the sensation of a sudden burst of energy and power. The feeling was like coffee and steroids combined, but so much better.

//The very last thing is my signature. How else will they know the Bone Man came? Besides, she’s not dead yet, just a shell.//

Holding out a hand, the Bone Man summoned the witch’s skeleton, phasing it through her body and leaving the rest of it untouched. He flicked his wrist and the bones piled themselves beside her head, skull grinning emptily on top of the mound. Then, he watched calmly for a moment while her body caved in on itself, smothering her organs and causing catastrophic failure before she suffocated from a collapsed airway.

//What do you think, my Lord?//

*** ***

Voldemort was glad none of his followers were there to see his reaction. Shock was a very unbecoming look on his face.

Potter, only fifteen years old, had more power and specialized knowledge than he, the Dark Lord Voldemort, could ever hope to. He killed easily, like he was stepping on a spider. He could take souls out of people, and then he pulled out their _skeletons_. No, he hadn’t been lying about his strength. He could turn souls into energy and steal from other people’s cores, for Merlin’s sake, his power _never ended!_

All that was left from Potter’s little ‘demonstration’ was a pile of clean bones, a body that looked rubbery and deflated without its rigid frame, and a lot of magical energy split between the two of them.

“Perhaps I should call you _my_ Lord,” he whispered, still staring at what was once Emmeline Vance and now resembled a Muggle rubber chicken.

The Bone Man laughed, and the sound of it echoed in Voldemort’s mind, rich and warm, bringing an involuntary smile to the man’s lips.

“Yes, Potter, I accept your alliance and your terms, unconditionally. I won’t give you the Dark Mark and you can have full control of the Dementors. In fact, I want you to be my partner, my equal or my general. Whispers of the Bone Man will drive fear deep into the hearts of the Light. Please, will you join me?” The boy laughed again at his eagerness and pleading tone.

//Of course, my Lord, but no one can know my name for now. Harry Potter ended when he disappeared from the Hogwarts Express. Lord Hadrian Black came into being at the same moment. Until I see fit, Harry Potter will not exist again.

It would probably be best to introduce me as your ally at first. Your most trusted should meet me as soon as possible, and as Lord Black, but I want the masses to know me only as the Bone Man. That way I stay mysterious. The less the Light believes I exist, the better. It will only make what I can do more frightening.//

Of course. Keeping an aura of the unknown around himself would make the Bone Man even more fearful. Whispered tales that sound like wild exaggeration would sow terror much faster than factual reports and the element of humanity found in a man’s name. The Bone Man would get a better reaction than Lord Hadrian Black.

“Yes, of course. The Inner Circle shall meet Lord Black tomorrow, but the lower ranks will only meet the Bone Man. Let me show you your rooms. We will talk more after breakfast. Leave the body, someone will take care of it by morning.”

//Wait, I just need a few things!// Voldemort watched as Potter summoned one of the thinner leg bones and two other tiny bones. He answered the questioning feeling in Voldemort’s mind. //Malleus bone from the ear, both of them, for a pet project. Right fibula,// he held up the thin leg bone, //for a wand. I’ll get tired of all the wandless-magic questions otherwise.//

It was only then that the Dark Lord realized Potter had done all of that without even a _wand_.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Harry rolled out of bed still tired. Since leaving Hogwarts, he had become more of a night owl. His magic felt stronger at night, especially the techniques he had learned from the Dementors. He supposed that was why Dementors when to the trouble of putting out the lights wherever they went. For him, the new moon was like the full moon was to werewolves.

Plus, his glowing runes were more impressive in the dark.

Digging around in his robe from the night before, he found the tiny bones he had taken from Madame Vance. These he strung onto a silver wire with the other malleus bones he taken from his past victims. This wire he fastened around his right ankle, the points of the hammer bones facing downward. Another longer wire he put around his throat as a choker. He put his robe back on, too, fastening it up from the inside with the finger-bone buttons and drawing the hood and cowl over his head.

Once dressed, he regarded his new wand where it lay on his nightstand. He had spent hours last night smoothing away the bumps and ridges on Madam Vance’s fibula until it was shaped like any other wand. Then he had taken the marrow out, leaving a space for the magic core. It had no core yet, but that didn’t matter. For now, it was only a prop to make his wandless magic less intimidating to his new allies and servants. Pocketing the hollow bone, he made his way to the breakfast room.

Inside the room, Voldemort and a few of his Death Eater were gathered around the table, waiting for him. This was the Inner Circle. All of them turned to look at him speculatively. Under his hood, Harry grinned. ‘Time to give them all a shock,’ he thought as he let his mental presence seep into the room and over their minds.

He could feel them all put up Occlumency shields as he swept them aside like cobwebs and gently wrapped up each of their minds. The strongest were those of Severus Snape, but even those fell before the Bone Man. Harry snickered to himself when he saw how comically wide the Potion Master’s eyes got. The exceptions, he noted, were Lord Voldemort and Lucius, both of whom had felt him before and eagerly welcomed him back into their mindscapes. Their minds relaxed into his presence, like a child would snuggle into a soft bed.

“Bone Man.” Voldemort spoke first, greeting him to show the Circle that he trusted this powerful wizard.

//My Lord,// Harry nodded his shrouded head to the Dark Lord. He made sure everyone at the table could hear his words. //I trust you slept well?//

“Very well, thank you.” He gestured to the men around the table and Bellatrix Lestrange. “My Inner Cicle. My faithful, this is the Bone Man. He has joined us just last night. His…particular skills will serve us well in the coming war.”

Most of the Inner Circle nodded, but a few grumbled. They knew nothing about this wizard. The Bone Man was not a name they had heard before. It was to the loudest grumbler that Harry directed his attention.

//Someone is missing. Who?// Everyone heard his question, but they could all feel that it was directed to Antonin Dolohov, who sat halfway down the table.

“Rabastan Lestrange is not here,” the thin wizard answered curtly with a hint of a sneer.

Harry said nothing in response to the veiled challenge. Instead, he changed the feeling of his presence in Dolohov’s mind. The warmth and safety vanished, replaced by ice-coldness and despair, with the feeling of sharp edges against flesh. When the man gasped and began to shake, Harry intensified the feeling until it was stronger than even a horde of Dementors.

The Inner Circle stared as tears rolled down the Death Eater’s face and his body shook with quiet sobs.

//The Dementors have named me their Wizard-Lord. I have spent a year learning from their strongest in Azkaban itself. I will not take well to doubters,// he let a cold wind sweep through all of their mindscapes, //and you may consider this your warning and a demonstration.//

Satisfied, Harry let the coldness fade in Dolohov’s mind. He wrapped the man’s mind in a warm feeling of comfort and safety, soothing it like a small child. He chuckled silently when he felt the older man nuzzle against his presence. Voldemort cleared his throat, drawing attention back to himself.

“Rabastan Lestrange is dealing with Madame Vance at the moment, but he will join us after breakfast. Would you like to continue the introduction now or later?” Harry thought for a moment.

//Now, please. I would like to meet with you and a few others privately later.//

“Very well. As you know now, my faithful, this is the Bone Man. He approached me through Lucius a month ago about an alliance. I have agreed. I trust him. He is not Marked, but his command is second only to my own, and he has control of the Dementors that have joined us-“

//Not just those,// Harry interrupted, //all of them. Every Dementor on earth will follow me with no hestitation.//

“All of them?” Harry’s presence gave a mental shrug they all felt.

//Wizard-Lord.//

“Shall I tell them your name?”

//Only as Lord Black,// Harry spoke only to Voldemort. None of the Inner Circle could hear his words. //I have glamoured my scar and changed my eyes. None of them will recognize me as Harry Potter now.//

“Of course. My faithful, the name of our ally is not to be spoken outside of the Inner Circle. Beyond us, he is only to be known as the Bone Man. Is that understood?” Voldemort’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“Yes, my Lord,” echoed quietly through the room. Harry reached up and lowered his hood and cowl slowly.

*** ***

If Lucius had not been raised with a sense of decorum, he might have waited on the edge of his chair to see the face of this mysterious man. His breath quickened as the man lowered his hood.

//I am Lord Gallus Hadrian Black.//

The Bone Man was no more than a boy! He looked no older than Lucius’s own son, Draco. His skin was pale and he had dark hair cropped almost to the skin. Something in his features looked familiar to Lucius, but all his thought scattered as he looked into the Bone Man’s eyes.

Oh, his eyes!

They were black. Not just the iris, the whole eye. There was no white to his eyes, just the purest black. Looking into them was like looking at death and fear and despair. When the black orbs met his grey ones, Lucius was reminded strongly of a quote from a Muggle philosopher.

//When you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you.//

Lucius was startled to hear the boy speak the very quote in his mind, but the presence was soothing and he quickly calmed again.

The boy swept his empty eyes slowly across the table before turning to the Dark Lord.

//My Lord, I will wait in your study. Bring Lord Malfoy and Rabastan Lestrange with you, please.//

“I will meet with you when I have finished here.”

The boy with eyes like death bowed and raised his hood again. As his presence withdrew, he whispered into Lucius’s mind once more.

//Bring Draco when you come.//

The Bone Man swept silently from the room, leaving them all feeling cold and lonely and slightly at a loss to explain it.

The table was quiet for a long moment before one of them found the ability to speak again.

“My Lord, who _is_ he?” It was Dolohov, eyes still red from the tears he had shed earlier.

Even the Dark Lord looked lost without the Bone Man in his mind.

“A very powerful and unexpected ally. Whispers of the Bone Man will travel through the ranks of the Light. They won’t believe in him at first, but they will still be terrified of him.”

A scoff was heard down the table. Clearly Bellatrix had recovered her attitude.

“Him? My Lord, he’s just a boy! What can he do, tell them ghost stories in their heads?” she sneered. The Dark Lord gave her a sharp look.

“Quiet Bella, do not insult him. Lord Black gave me a demonstration of his power last night. Perhaps you saw Madam Vance this morning?” Bellatrix paled quickly and shut her mouth. “That was the Bone Man’s signature. Before he killed her, however, he removed her _soul_ and emptied her core. He can turn souls into pure energy, and he gave me Vance’s. Do not underestimate this boy. Perhaps Dolohov could enlighten us on what else Lord Black can do?” The man in question gulped.

“It…it was worse than the Dementors in Azkaban. I still remember how that felt, when they gathered around my cell,” many at the table paled and shuddered, also remembering, “but that was worse. It was…I can’t even describe it. I just had no choice but to cry, it was so…cold…and then it was over, and I felt warm and safe again. Better than chocolate or a warm fire or anything I could think of. It was just suddenly over and his mind felt…soft.”

“Thank you, dear one. You see, Bella? That ‘boy’ is more powerful than you or I could ever imagine, and every day I will be thankful he has chosen to join me.” The Dark Lord rose and all those at the table followed suit. “Come Lucius. Rodolphus, fetch your brother and send him to my study. The Bone Man wishes to meet him.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

As they left the breakfast room, Lucius sent an elf to fetch Draco as Lord Black had requested.

The Bone Man was waiting silently for them in the study, hood down, sitting cross-legged on the Dark Lord’s desk. The elder blond was quite sure that if anyone else had tried to do such a thing, the Dark Lord would have killed them painfully on the spot. As it was, the Dark Lord only sighed and shook his head.

“I see you do still sometimes act your age, Lord Black.”

As the familiar presence swept across his mind, Lucius did not even try to shield himself. He welcomed the Bone Man, wrapping himself in the warm softness of the boy’s mind.

//I can act as mature as I wish, but I _am_ only fifteen, my Lord.// Lucius thought that if the boy had spoken aloud, he might have stuck his tongue out.

“I can see that you will never cease to surprise me, child. Why have you brought us here?”

//I have gathered the people I want to know my true identity. We will wait for Draco and Rabastan to join us, however. Make Lucius swear the oath,// he said casually, hopping down from the desk and tossing off his robe. Beneath, the boy was wearing a black short-sleeve shirt with a v-shaped collar, showing off a choker of tiny bones around his neck. He also wore slim black tailored trousers that ended at his knees. Wrapped around one ankle was another string of tiny bones. Lucius stared at them curiously after he swore his secrecy oath.

//Malleus, or hammer bones,// the boy had noticed his interest. //One of three bones found in the ear. I take them from all my victims. I added Madam Vance’s hammer bones just this morning.//

There were dozens of bones on each strand, two from each victim. The boy was no stranger to death or murder.

Behind him, there was a short knock before the door opened to reveal Draco and Rabastan. Lucius saw Draco stiffen as the Bone Man entered his mind. Rabastan, however, had a look of shock on his face. His blue eyes searched the room, fixing on the boy.

“Arwr?” he croaked out. He rushed across the room, sweeping the boy into his arms, oblivious to the stares of shock.

“Dihiryn!”

It was the first time Lucius had heard the Bone Man speak. His voice had a raspy, growling sound that reminded the elder blond of the rattling sounds Dementors made.

“It is you! My arwr!” Rabastan lifted the Bone Man and spun him around once. The boy held the Death Eater’s shoulders tightly and laughed, a sound of pure happiness that Lucius could feel roll across his mindscape.

‘Just who is this boy?’ he wondered.

*** ***

Even as he let himself sink into the happiness in his dihiryn’s mind, Harry could feel the twin shock of Lucius and Voldemort and the confusion of Draco. As he nuzzled into his dihiryn’s chest, he spoke to Voldemort.

//Make Draco swear the oath, then give him the same information you gave the Inner Circle.// He could hear the Dark Lord speaking to Draco, but he ignored it.

Sinking further into Rabastan’s mindscape, he let images and feeling flow between their minds as he told his dihiryn about everything that had happened since the older man had escaped Azkaban. The man’s arms tightened in response to the information about Umbridge and the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries. When Voldemort spoke to him again, it startled them both.

“It is done, Bone Man.”

//Thank you.// Harry pulled away from Rabastan and moved to stand in front of Draco. He could feel the other teen’s fear at looking into his pure black eyes. He pulled some of the fear out of his mind, examining it in his own, finding all the things that made Draco Malfoy afraid.

//Two of you know already who I am,// he said, turning away and addressing his words to all of them. //Rabastan and I met while I was training with the Dementors. He knew me before I became the Bone Man or Lord Black. I revealed my name to Lord Voldemort when we struck the alliance. He has sworn the same oath as you and your son, Lord Malfoy. Now, I reveal myself to you.//

With a wave of his fake wand, Harry dropped his glamours. His trademark scar appeared again on his forehead, and the black in his eyes shrank to the center, uncovering Killing Curse green once more.

“I always did like the green better, arwr,” Rabastan said behind him.

“Hush, dihiryn.” Rabastan was the only one he had spoken to out loud since school had ended.

“Potter?” The question came from Draco. “How can you be Potter? You’re so powerful and Dark, and he’s so…not. And Light! You can’t be Potter, he’s thei-“

//If you say ‘Chosen One’ or ‘Savior’ or any other stupid name they’ve given me, I will _end_ you and happily add your ear bones to my collection.// Harry let cold seep into the younger Malfoy’s mind.

Draco shut his mouth with a snap.

//Better. Yes, I am Harry Potter. I refuse to be Harry Potter any more. Yes, at school I acted like Dumbledore’s little soldier. I don’t think I need to explain the value of masks to a Slytherin, do you?// He increased the feeling of cold malice he was giving Draco.

“No, no, of course not.”

//Good.// The malice disappeared and he wrapped the other teen up in the warmth of his mind again. The younger blond visibly relaxed, a tiny smile reaching his lips.

“Pott- Bone Man, why are you telling us this? Draco is not even a member of the Inner Circle.”

Harry turned to Lucius and smirked. He knew that Draco didn’t even have the Dark Mark. It was one of the things he feared. He supported Voldemort’s ideals, but he didn’t want to be tortured on a whim or for failure, and he was afraid of having to hide the Mark at school.

//But he is still a student. I decided to tell Draco when I decided to return to school, and it isn’t fair to ask him to keep secrets from his own father. You are his hero, after all. I wouldn’t feel right, making him hide something important from you, Lord Malfoy.//

Lucius turned to his son with a proud light in his eyes. Draco blushed and looked at the floor.

//Oh, Draco, don’t look so embarrassed! Look up at me with those pretty eyes, the carpet can’t appreciate them anyway,// Harry laughed. Draco’s blush deepened but he did look at Harry quickly before flicking his gaze away again. Rabastan chuckled.

“Arwr, quit teasing the poor boy. I’m sure he’s not the only confused one here. Tell us why you’re going back to school. You told me that you would never step foot in there again.”

//Ah, dihiryn, I told you Harry Potter would never step foot in Hogwarts again. Hadrian Black, the newly emancipated Lord Black, happens to be two years shy of a full education and would like to finish them. No doubt he’ll be sorted into Slytherin and in need of a friend.//

“And Draco is to be that friend?”

//Only if he wishes to, Lord Malfoy. I will not force friendship.//

Turning once again to Draco, Harry decided to speak to him out loud.

“That first year, on the train, you offered me your hand in friendship, but the time wasn’t right then. We both needed to grow and learn more. If you will still offer me your hand, I would take it now.”

*** ***

Draco was still skeptical of the hand extended to him. After all, he and Potter had been rivals for five years. Now here was Potter, claiming to be this Dark and powerful wizard and Dementor Lord and wanting to be his friend all of a sudden. What had changed?

“Why now?” he asked. He did still want to be Potter’s friend, but not if there were hidden agendas. “What has changed?”

“I have, and you have,” the teen answered. He continued to speak aloud to Draco, who supposed it must be some sign of respect. The younger Malfoy could still feel the presence laying lightly across his mind.

“I know you think I have some ulterior motive for this,” he continued, “but I really don’t. I have plans for you, yes, but none of them require your friendship. Your loyalty, yes, but not your regard.”

Draco considered his answer for a long moment. He had no doubt Potter was scheming, since he was allied with the Dark Lord now, but he was surprised to be included in those plans. It scared him a little. He was not a killer, not like his Aunt Bella or like he’d heard Potter was. He knew the Dark Lord planned to Mark him and give him a task, but he didn’t want that.

However, he trusted what Potter said. Even when they had been rivals, the other boy had never lied to him. So, he took the boy’s hand, grasping it firmly in the way he wished he could have done five years earlier.

“Then I accept your offer of friendship.”

Draco’s answer prompted a dazzling smile from Potter that left him nearly breathless. A wave of happiness washed through his mind from the teen, and Draco knew he had made the right choice.

//Right, now onto my plans!// It seemed the moment was over, and now Potter was back to speaking only through his thoughts. //My Lord, have you give Draco the Mark yet?//

“No, I planned to Mark him shortly before school and give him a task to prove his worth.”

//I see. My Lord, would you mind terribly not doing that?//

The Dark Lord’s eyes narrowed at the teen. Draco moved slightly away from the older wizard and saw his father and Rabastan do the same.

“Just what exactly are you planning? Draco’s task is vital to the war effort. Do not think you can defy me, boy.”

Draco gasped and fell to his knees, shaking and clutching his head. The cold and the hatred in his mind were so painful. Across the room, his father was also on his knees, silent tears rolling down his face. Rabastan still stood but had both arms wrapped around himself as he shivered. Even the Dark Lord had to grab hold of the edge of his desk as his knees buckled. Potter stood in the center of the room, cold, empty expression giving away no hint of what he was doing.

//If you value our alliance and your life, you will never call me ‘boy’ again. Do not forget what I showed you last night, _my Lord_. All your little precautions are useless against me.//

Draco would never forget the moment he saw the Lord Voldemort cower in fear.

“Of course, Bone Man. My apologies. Could you perhaps explain your plans for your Draco to me?”

Just like that, the cold and pain disappeared. Draco felt as though he was wrapped in a soft blanket or a loving hug. It was better than chocolate after Dementors.

//Of course! I plan to make Draco to me what Lucius is to you, and I’ll carry out his little task myself.// Potter was all grins now. The abrupt change was almost disturbing. //As for not Marking him, Draco here doesn’t want to have to hide it for the next two years, and I agree. Let me give him my sign instead, my Lord. It’s much more subtle, as Rabastan here can attest. Show him, dihiryn?//

“Sure, little arwr,” the older man chuckled, “which ones?” Draco stared curiously at the man, noting that the Dark Lord had narrowed eyes again. None of them had known Rabastan had been marked by someone else.

//Just the radial runes, not the personal ones. We don’t need to disturb them all by having you drop your trousers.//

“Alright,” Rabastan replied, shucking his robes and starting to unbutton his cuffs.

“When did you put your own mark on one of my followers?” The Dark Lord asked the question on everyone’s mind. “And how did I not know?”

//I marked him while he was in Azkaban. You didn’t know because he didn’t allow you to. They’re bone runes just like mine. The physical rune exists on the surface of the bone. The Bone-Sign I chose to place on the underside of both wrists, on the radius and below the thumb. On the styloid process, if you want to know what it’s really called. Show my Lord your wrists, dihiryn.//

Rabastan dutifully bared both wrists to the Dark Lord. With the exception of the Dark Mark, the skin was clear. The Dark Lord ran a fingertip over both wrists.

“I cannot see them,” he said softly, “nor can I feel any glamours that would cover such a thing. How?”

*** ***

Voldemort gazed down at Rabastan Lestrange’s white skin. He was still annoyed that the bo- that Potter had managed to mark his Death Eater, but he was more amazed that he had not known and even now could not find the mark.

//As I said, bone runes. I have thousands, but you can’t see them right now, can you?// Voldemort remembered how the Bone Man had glowed, a skeleton made of tiny runes. //Right now, it is only an etching on the surface of the bone. When Rabastan feeds magic into the runes,// he paused as Lestrange did so, //they show through the skin. The color always seems to align with eye color, but I haven’t figured out why yet.//

Indeed, two runes appeared on the Death Eater’s wrist, one on each. They glowed through the skin a deep blue color, matching Rabastan’s eyes perfectly.

//We can also let them show black, but that’s just…decorative. The spell can’t be activated when they’re black.// As the Bone Man spoke, Rabastan frowned a little as he concentrated. A moment later, both runes turned black. They looked almost like tattoos, but within his arms. The effect was like seeing through the arm to the bone, but without it actually being transparent. It was…quite impressive.

“You said this is your sign, the Bone-Sign. Why did you choose these? They are not spells.”

//No, the spells are woven into his personal sign. Those are more like my signature. Ing on the right, meaning ‘hero,’ what the Light always wanted me to be. I chose to be a hero for the Dark instead. Ēar on the left, meaning ‘grave.’ Harry Potter has died, but the Bone Man rose from his grave. A bit poetic, but I like it.// Potte- no, Black, he wanted to be Gallus Hadrian Black now- Black shrugged.

“What do you mean, personal sign?” The question came from Lucius, but Voldemort was also curious as to what his new ally had meant.

//Well, I thought my sign was a bit distant, and I didn’t like the idea of any followers I gathered all being identically marked. It just isn’t practical. No offence, my Lord. With your Dark Mark, there are a number of spell woven into it, and that’s why it’s so large and bothersome to hide. With my small runes, I couldn’t do the same thing. So Rabastan here has another set of runes, forming protection and tracking spell and shaped like the Gemini constellation, since he’s a twin. Those are on his left hip. They’re…connected, in a way, to my runes, so I can always find him.//

“And this is what you want to do to Draco. What do you mean, make him to you what Lucius is to me?”

//My right hand. Lucius is your most trusted and an excellent strategist. With you, Draco would only be another soldier to order around, and he really isn’t a killer. However, he has been taught at his father’s knee, and I have use for his skills. As for his task…well, Draco may not be a killer, but I assure you I have no such problems. His soul and magic will benefit us both greatly, my Lord.//

Voldemort thought about this. It was true that, while Lucius was around, Draco would never have risen to the rank his father held. While giving him to Black gave his ally more independence and power, he felt confident the Bone Man would not turn from him. They were partners in this now, even if the teen still called Voldemort his Lord. Draco would also have no trouble hiding the Bone-Sign from prying eyes at school, but with the Dark Mark he would not even be able to roll up his sleeves.

“Very well. Take Draco as your second in command. You will have the most authority over him.”

“My Lord?” Lucius asked, clearly confused that he had had no part in determining the fate of his son and heir.

“Do not worry, Lucius, your son will be safe. Lord Black is not one for punishing his followers easily. Draco has a better standing with the Bone Man than in my ranks. Besides, if he is unable to kill then he would only fail his task, and I have no desire to punish you or your wife for his failure.”

*** ***

Realizing Black had just saved his son from a distasteful fate, Lucius inclined his head, murmuring a soft “Thank you, my Lord.”

Lucius was having just as difficult a time as his son believing that the Bone Man was really Harry Potter. Even more so that he had denounce his name and taken a new identity and a new side in the war.

He wondered just how powerful this new man was. The Dark Lord had only just met with him the night before, but already he trusted him and had even formed an alliance that gave Black equal power over the Dark side. While Lucius had felt the magic that was thick in the air of the little round hut where he found the Bone Man, only the Dark Lord had gotten a proper demonstration. Though everyone had seen Madame Vance that morning.

“Potter-“

//Hadrian,// the teen interrupted, //or Black or Bone Man. As I said before, Harry Potter is dead, and I will not answer to his name.//

“Black, then,” Lucius corrected, “will you show us your runes? You said you had thousands, and I am curious.”

“Arwr, how many more did you add since I last you?” added Rabastan. “Before you had only your hands and spine. Have you finished your project?”

Black laughed. It was a beautiful sound, one that echoed in Lucius’s ears and mind, since he laughed with both voices, and Lucius wondered how close of a relationship he had with the Lestrange brother.

//Yes, dihiryn. I completed the last bone, my skull, this summer. It wasn’t very long before I met Lord Malfoy.//

Black pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside where his robe lay. He closed his eyes, and his skin began to glow faintly green, like the Killing Curse. When he opened them again, they were completely black in the center with just a thin ring of glowing green around the edge. His body was a skeleton made entirely of runes. They were miniscule, much smaller than Rabastan’s, and they wrapped around every bone in a spiral. No surface was left bare.

Standing there is his short trousers, the Bone Man was a being of pure magic. He was so Dark, and it was beautiful. Rabastan whistled appreciatively.

“You did them all the same way we did mine? How did you get that much blood?”

“Blood?” Draco asked. Lucius supposed he was the most curious, since he would have his own bone runes soon.

//The runes are carved onto the surface of the bone, and then I seal them with Dementor blood and a little black magic spell I created. I could use any blood, but the Dementors’ has the strongest connection to the magic and it comes with a nifty little side effect.// At the Dark Lord’s raised eyebrow he explained, //the Dementors can’t bother you anymore. What I do is both magic and a form of Legilimency, so I can still suck the happiness away from Rabastan here, but the Dementors are all instinct. It’s just feeding for them, even if it is a little magical. They’re like ticks, and I am a butcher who opens veins with a knife. To answer your question, Rabastan, a couple very old and dying Dementors allowed me to kill and drain them so I would have enough. I have some left over still, enough to mark Draco and your brother, if he wants. If you allow, my Lord,// he added hastily. Rabastan snorted.

“Yes, fine. Rabastan, you may speak to your brother if you wish. Gemini does stand for twins, after all. Black, if you wish, you may give Draco his markings today,” the Dark Lord drawled out, waving a dismissive hand. The Bone Man doused his glowing runes and quickly donned both shirt and robe.

//Excellent! Come with me, Draco, it’ll take a few hours and only hurt a lot, I promise. Dihiryn, I’ll need your help,// and Black swept from the room, followed by the two others and leaving Lucius’s mind as lonely and empty as before.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Albus Dumbledore looked around at the faces turned toward him. It had been almost two months since Harry Potter had disappeared from the Hogwarts Express, and no one had heard anything from him since. The Order of the Phoenix had gathered again, and everyone wanted consolation or news from him. He sighed. It was bad enough that his tool had vanished and everyone’s plans were beginning to fall through, but some of these people actually cared about the boy.

“Professor, have you found anything new?” Hermione Granger asked. She disturbed, not that Harry was gone, but that someone with such a high profile could disappear so thoroughly that even he could not find them. The Weasley boy beside her just looked bored and annoyed. Albus knew he had always been jealous of the boy, but he was the best choice for a friend because of his strong affiliation with the Light.

“Yes, some, but it isn’t very helpful. It seems that Harry went to Gringotts when he vanished from the train. There, he heard about Sirius’s will. You may not know, but Sirius named Harry as his heir. He claimed the title and consolidated both the Potter and Black vaults.”

“So he’s Lord Black now?” gasped Molly Weasley. “Ginny will be the next Lady Black, then!” Albus and the Weasley family had plans to get Harry to marry Ginny Weasley, cementing his power to the Light side.

“I’m afraid not, Molly. The records are sealed after that point, but the goblins tell me that the current Lord Black is not Harry Potter but one Gallus Hadrian Black. Since Harry tied the Potter vaults to the Black vaults, the new Lord Black has control of both.”

“We were supposed to get his money if he died!” Ronald shouted, angered by his family’s loss. “You promised, you said it was in his will!”

“I know, Mr. Weasley. However, he changed the vaults after the will was made, making it null and void.”

“For there to be a new Lord Black, wouldn’t Harry have to be dead?” asked Hermione with a thoughtful expression. “That would explain why the owls won’t even try to deliver any letters. I had thought it was because he was hidden behind strong wards, but owls could find Sirius here even when we didn’t know about it.”

“Yes indeed, Miss Granger, which does bring me to another bit of information I’m afraid we didn’t want to hear. Lord Black left a letter for me at Gringotts, which the goblins gave me, though I have not read it. I have been told it concerns this building in particular.” He shook out the parchment and read

“ _’To Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix,_

_‘I am aware that you are currently using Number 12, Grimmauld Place as a headquarters for your organization. This letter is to inform you that this cannot continue._

_‘Number 12, Grimmauld Place is a Black residence. As Lord Black, I am taking back my residence. I am aware that my predecessor, Sirius Orion Black, allowed you to use the building as a headquarters and to place the building under a Fidelius Charm with Albus Dumbledore as the Secret Keeper. However, the Black Lordship claim supersedes yours._

_‘The Order of the Phoenix has until noon on August the first, year 1996, to vacate the premises of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. After this date, the wards will forcibly remove you and break the Fidelius Charm. As soon as this letter passes through the wards, the private family rooms and the Black library will seal. Please leave peaceful._

_‘Sincerely,_

_‘Gallus Hadrian Black_  
‘Lord Black  
‘Lord Potter’”

Stunned silence filled the room, before shocked whispering broke out.

“How dare he throw us out?! Who does he think he is, throwing Dumbledore out on the street?!” Ginny Weasley was the source of the outburst. Albus smiled kindly at her.

“My dear, he thinks he is Lord Black, and he is absolutely correct. He marked this letter with his seal, so I believe we will find ourselves cut off from a number of rooms in this house now.”

“I’ve never heard of a Gallus Black. Have you check the family tree, to see if his claim is real?” asked Tonks thoughtfully. She and Albus had both wondered what would happen to the Black title if Harry had died.

“I am sorry to say I did not. We will have no chance to now, as it was undoubtedly sealed off in the library. There would be no point in checking, as the goblins will not allow anyone with a false claim to become Lord.” Albus gave a sad smile, though he was seething inside. How could this man have known about their activities? He had hoped that the Fidelius Charm would hide any knowledge of Grimmauld Place. He knew it was powerful, since he was the caster. Harry’s disappearance was ruining everything!

“Professor? If Harry’s dead, who’s going to defeat V-Voldemort?” Hermione asked quietly. She was not concerned with Lordships and titles, but her own fate as a muggleborn.

“My dear, we will continue fighting. There was a prophecy about Harry, that’s true, but he wasn’t named in it. There is one other it could have meant. I will train that boy with all the knowledge and skills I was going to teach Harry this year. We still have a fighting chance.” Albus was not pleased. Neville Longbottom would not stand a chance. Voldemort would sweep him aside like so much dust in the wind. He would have to redouble his efforts to destroy all the Horcruxes. Longbottom would only bumble around and mess up such a task.

“Albus!” The door to kitchen burst open before a frantic Kingsley Shacklebolt. “Albus, they’ve found Emmeline Vance. Her body was at the entrance to Knockturn Alley. Albus, she was…” He had a strong look of horror and disgust on his face.

“What, Kingsley?” Arthur Weasley asked. “How bad could it be?”

“Her body had no skeleton. Her bones were in a pile beside her, and her body had no marks on it. It’s like she Apparated and left her skeleton behind. There was a message carved onto her skull.” The dark skinned Auror was green, remembering the sight. “It said, ‘Prepare for the wrath of the Bone Man.’ There were two runes below that, under the eye sockets.”

“Who is the Bone Man?” Ronald asked. Everyone else looked too ill from imagining the sight to speak.

“He is the Dark Lord’s new ally,” answered Severus Snape. Everyone turned to look at the man in black, standing in the shadows. “He was introduced this morning to Inner Circle.”

*** ***

Severus had eagerly been waiting for the Light’s reaction to the state Madame Vance had been left in. He was astounded to hear what Lord Black had done. The boy clearly knew how to use everything he had to work against the Light. It was a shame he was forbidden to tell them that the Bone Man and Lord Black were one and the same. Severus would have enjoyed their shock.

“The Dark Lord struck the alliance last night. Madame Vance was his ‘demonstration’ last night. The Dark Lord has named either an equal or second only to himself.”

“Can you tell us anything about his power? He must be incredibly strong if Voldemort calls him an equal,” said Albus. Everyone was beginning to become afraid of this Bone Man. His lord had spoken the truth, the Bone Man would cause whispers of terror among the Light. Possibly the Dark as well, if they heard what he did to Dolohov.

“The Dark Lord has given him complete control of the Dementors. He says he trained with the Dementors, and that they consider him their ‘Wizard-Lord.’”

“Do you believe these stories, Severus?”

“I do,” Severus replied sincerely. “Antonin Dolohov doubted him this morning. He was inside all of our minds. Not even my Occlumency shields could keep him out. He pulled the happiness out of Dolohov, worse than any Dementor could. I felt only a slight cold wind, his warning I suppose, but Dolohov cried. And it was said,” he paused, appearing to think but really giving his story a little suspense, “it was said that, before he killed Vance, he pulled out her soul and turn it into pure magical energy, which he gave to the Dark Lord.”

“If that is true,” Albus mused, while the Weasley sat with eyes like saucers, “then he is like nothing we have ever seen before. Killing this Bone Man will be our priority. There is no way to protect the soul from a Dementor’s Kiss, and the Patronus will do nothing against a man. What did he look like, Severus?”

“I do not know,” he lied. “He had on a robe that covered his feet and hands, and he hid his face behind a hood and cowl. He did not even speak out loud. He spread his mind over all of use and spoke directly into our thoughts. It was…” warm, comforting, safe, disturbing “odd.”

“Even into yours, Severus? I didn’t think anyone could get into your mind,” asked Kingsley. Severus sneered at the implied slight that his shields were not as strong as everyone thought.

“Even into the Dark Lord’s. I doubt there is a force on earth that could keep the Bone Man out. It did not feel like any Legilimancy I have ever heard of.”

“Severus, we need to know more about this Bone Man. Go back and learn what you can.”

Severus bristled at the order and the dismissal. He was not a dog to do Albus Dumbledore’s bidding.

He turned on a heel and left the room to prepare for his return to Malfoy Manor.

*** ***

As Snape left and the meeting devolved into gossip, Fred and George exchanged looks and touched fingertips.

\Harry sure did the job right, didn’t he?\

They had known about Harry’s training with the Dementors from the beginning, during Harry’s third year. They had given him the map to help him sneak off to meet with the creatures, after all. When Harry started to become the Bone Man, he had marked them with the Bone-Sign, too. That had been right after the Third Task and Voldemort’s resurrection. Sneaking out of the meeting, they went to speak with Snape.

\If he’s in the open now, we can join him,\ said George to his twin. In their personal signs, Harry had woven a mental connection between the two when they touched. He said that twins had a special form soul, one that wanted to be joined and mixed, that allowed it. Their marks were in the shape of the Gemini constellation, too, but on their shoulders: left for Fred, right for George.

\Finally!\ exclaimed Fred as they strode toward the Potion Master’s office. \Dumbles’s little plans and chess moves are really annoying. How did he think _Ron_ was best friend material for anyone?\

“What do you want?” snapped Snape.

“We want to go to our master,” the two replied together. Snape raised an eyebrow.

“What are you talking about?”

“The Bone Man,” supplied Fred.

“We know the Bone Man is Lord Black. We may know more about him than you do,” explained George.

“He marked us as his followers years ago,” continued Fred. “We’ve been waiting for him to come out in the open, so we could join him.”

“Now that he has, we want you to take us there.”

“We on our magic that this isn’t a trick-“

“-so mote be it.”

Snape gave them an appraising look. The white light that had flashed proved that the vow had held.

“Very well. I’ll take you side-along to the gates. The Bone Man will decide to let you in from there. _If_ he lets you in at all.”

The twins offered up hands, which Snape grasped, and they all turned on the spot and vanished.

*** ***

Draco was nervous. He might have been friends with Pott- Black now, but he had promised pain. Lots of pain. Draco could handle pain, but he wasn’t masochistic.

“Where should we put your personal mark?”

Black’s question startled Draco from his thoughts. They were seated facing each other on the hardwood floor of Black’s bedroom. Rabastan was lounging across the bed, examining Black’s wand.

“What’s this made of, arwr?” he asked, frowning at the wand and waving it around. “And why can’t I make it work?” Black chuckled.

“Dihiryn, it isn’t real. I prefer wandless magic, I don’t need a wand.” Draco choked at the casual answer He didn’t need a wand at all? “It’s one of the poor late Madame Vance’s fibulas, a leg bone. It’s hollow right now. I haven’t decided on a core yet, though I’m thinking blood.” Rabastan smirked.

“Dementor or human?”

“Both, I think. Mine and the Dementor King’s. And possibly some snake venom, if Nagini and my Lord approve. It would be incredibly responsive and tuned just to me.”

“Arwr, you are the darkest, craziest genius I have ever met.” Black just gave him a smirk and a mocking bow.

“Now,” he said, turning back to Draco, “we should decide on a design for your personal mark first. You don’t want to stop halfway through the process, believe me. I think we should use the constellation Draco as the design. I want to put more protections into your sign, so whatever design should be big. As should the bone I put it on, so think about that while I get the supplies.” Black rose from the floor and open a trunk. He pulled out several vials of a black liquid and one of a silver potion. He continued to speak.

“There aren’t many flat surfaces in the human skeleton. There’s the skull, but that’s dangerous and I’d rather not do that to anyone else. Shoulder blades are good, or I can wrap it around any large bone.”

“I like the constellation idea,” Draco answered. It was a bit like monograming his own body. “Can you wrap it around my arm? My right one?”

“Sure thing. Now, here’s the important part. The black magic spell I use requires a life sacrifice, but it doesn’t have to be a human life. Most of my runes were sealed with human lives, criminals and prisoners in Azkaban, but some were Dementors that were dying. I offered to kill them quickly and save them the pain. Human and magical creature sacrifice makes the most powerful and reactive runes. Rabastan’s were also sealed with a Dementor’s life, but I’ve done others with animals. Do you want yours sealed with human, Dementor, or animal sacrifice? The Dark Lord still has prisoners I can use.”

Draco paled at how easily Black talked about killing people. He knew the teen did not kill pointlessly, but it still shocked him to think that the person who had once been Harry Potter now killed easily and without remorse.

“Dementor, please,” he answered after a moment. His runes would still be powerful, but he wasn’t quite comfortable with casual sacrifice. “Don’t kill any of the important ones for me, though.”

“It’s ok, Draco, I won’t. I know one of the lesser leaders had a child yesterday, but it was born sick. It wouldn’t have lasted until tomorrow morning, anyway. My way will be kinder.”

Draco was surprised at how kind Black was to the creatures. The Harry Potter he had known in school had had a bad experience with Dementors, fainting every time he got near them. How did Black manage to stay near enough to train with them?

“Black-“ he started, but he was interrupted.

“Hadrian, please. I go by my middle name now. Hadrian is more familiar to me than Gallus.” Draco nodded.

“Hadrian, I thought you hated the Dementors. You kept passing out near them in third year.”

“I did look a fool, didn’t I?” Hadrian grinned. “No, the Dementors are kind to me. The one on the train in third year recognized my magic right off, plus a little extra special thing that’s a secret between me and the Dark Lord. They have a prophecy that’s centuries old, foretelling the coming of the Wizard-Lord. I was lucky the one on the train had studied the prophecy. He could feel my core and my soul, but there were blocks on my magic and my memories. I kept passing out because they were trying to remove the blocks, but I didn’t understand. It wasn’t until the Quidditch match, there one where I fell off my broom, that they remove enough that I could speak with them. They use the same mental communication I do, that’s why Occlumency can’t keep me out. There’s no Occlumens that can keep a Dementor out, after all.”

Draco was reminded again of the lingering presence Hadrian had in his mind and how it made him feel warm and comforted.

“Why does it feel so different when you’re in my mind? It feels…safe.”

“Because I want it to,” Hadrian shrugged. “I can make it feel how I want, and soft and warm feeling makes people trust me. They never fight after the first time either. Not that it does anything, just tires them out, but they stop fighting. Even the Dark Lord welcomed me into his mind this morning.” Hadrian stood and rolled his shoulders. “Now, to business. I think we’ll do your radial signs first, then the right humerus. I’ll do the sacrificial seal at the very end, but you’ll be unconscious for that part. Trust me, it’s better that way.”

“It really is,” Rabastan added. “I remember my first sign, I was awake for the seal. Arwr, I don’t know how you managed to stay awake for all your seals.”

“Practice,” Hadrian answered flatly. “Off the bed, Rabastan, Draco’s gonna need it. My Lord got Lucius to left the anti-Apparition wards in this room, so we can do it in here.”

“Why do we need to apparate?” Draco asked, confused. Hadrian waved his hand to conjure a bone made of metal. He gripped Draco’s arm tightly.

“The runes need to go directly on your bones, and for that your bones need to be outside your body. I could phase them out, like I did Vance’s, but your body would collapse around the space, and putting the bone back correctly is…complicated. If we apparate, I can switch your bone with a fake, then switch them back when I’m done. Understand?”

‘Not really,’ Draco thought, but he nodded anyway.

“Good. Now, we have to apparate together. You focus on getting us both on the bed. I’ll focus on switching the bones. Ready? Here we go!”

*** ***

Hadrian focus intently on his work. He had finished the Bone-Sign already and had moved on to Draco’s personal mark. Using a quill made of pure magic, he carefully inscribed the next rune in the series before dipping the quill in the Dementor blood and moving on to the last rune.

Draco’s mark wrapped around the bone three times, it was so big. In it, Hadrian had included several strong protection spells, including one that would work if he was unconscious because of an attack, a tracking spell, a spell to strengthen his mental shields (though it still couldn’t stop Hadrian), and one that was tied to Hadrian’s own runes. That spell would allow him to call to Hadrian if he was ever in danger, no matter how far apart they were.

Hadrian had a duty to protect his second-in-command, after all.

Finally finished, he grabbed Draco and the bone and they completed the final Apparition, replacing the temporary nickel bone with Draco’s proper humerus. Hadrian used nickel because it was the least reactive metal, and therefore the least likely to be rejected by the body while he was working. That had been especially important when he had done his skull and spine.

Fully put together again, he laid Draco down on the bed.

“Now comes the seal. I’ve got a potion for you here. It’ll just put you under for five minutes, but it’s enough. The sealing process causes a lot of mental and physical pain,” he warned the blond. “I can pull out all the mental pain you’ll have, but your body will still hurt. I’ll turn what I pull out into pure energy and give it back to you, though. You’ll recover faster that way. Understand?”

Grey eyes met his and Draco nodded, throwing back the silver potion like a shot. He was asleep in seconds.

Stretching out his mind, he summoned the sick Dementor child and its parent to him. He explained what he was offering, and the lesser leader readily agreed. He and his mate were not happy to lose the child, but they both knew nothing could save it. Hadrian’s killing would save the whole family a great deal of suffering.

The adult Dementor moved away to the darkest corner of the room as Hadrian began to chant in Latin. He held the infant creature close, tenderly kissing its brow before conjuring a blade of gold and killing it quickly. He laid the body on the floor and began to draw runes in the creature’s blood on Draco’s skin, over his wrists and his upper arm. He chanted switched to Old Saxon. The ritual he used was one he created, a mix of two others. The part in Old Saxon was much older than the first piece, done in Latin.

As he chanted, he could feel the pain in Draco’s mind. Quickly, he pulled it into his core, converting it to pure magic. The blond’s muscles began to twitch from the pain, signifying that he would wake within seconds.

Grey eyes flashed open and his jaw clenched, but he did not scream. Hadrian was proud of him for that. After a few minutes, his chant ended and Draco’s pain faded, leaving stiffness and soreness in its wake. Hadrian pushed the energy he had taken into Draco’s core, and the other teen sighed in relief. The runes drawn in blood faded, showing that everything had worked perfectly. Hadrian grinned.

“All done, Draco. Sleep now, my brave Dragon. I will teach you about them when you wake.”

Draco nodded, too exhausted to reply. He was asleep again in seconds.

The Dementor in the corner drifted over to him.

//I am sorry it had to happen, Mourning One,// he said. He always felt remorse from killing one of the creatures, more than he ever felt from his human kills. He was meant to protect them as they had protected him, and he cared for them.

//It could not be helped, my Wizard. I regret that he could not grow up to serve you,// the Dementor replied. An idea struck Hadrian.

//Mourning One, perhaps he could serve me yet.// Hadrian explained his wand that needed a core. A Dementor’s cloak was the embodiment of its power. It would make a wand core fit for the Wizard-Lord, and it would be a reminder of this child every time he used it.

//Of course, my Wizard. My child can still serve you that way. You honor my family with your remembrance,// the Dementor replied.

//Thank you. Mourning One, I must ask one more favor of you. Please let the King know that I would like to speak with him tonight at midnight.// The Dementor agreed and left to seek out the King. Hadrian was the Wizard-Lord, but he still treated the creatures kindly and their King with the respect due to his station.

The Dementor passed Severus Snape in the doorway, provoking an amusing shudder from the spy. Hadrian let his mind seep into Snape’s. The man sighed, but did not bother to fight it.

//You seek the Bone Man, Severus Snape?//

The man in black gave a half bow, as though unsure how much respect he should give to Hadrian.

“Lord Black, I have brought two young men who say they are followers of yours. I left them at the gate for you to decide to let them in or not.” Hadrian smirked.

//Do these followers perhaps have red hair and a tendency to finish each other’s sentences?// Snape nodded. //I shall go and greet Fred and George. They will be interested to know that I am in the process of acquiring another set of twins. Stay her with Draco, please, Severus, and inform me when he wakes.//

Snape nodded again and moved to stand beside the bed. He studied Draco’s sleeping form, frowning.

“Lord Black, why is he asleep? Is something wrong?”

//Nothing is wrong, Severus, he is only exhausted. I have just finished marking him to be my right-hand man. Your godson is perfectly healthy. I shall explain more to you both when he wakes.//

“Of course, Lord Black.”

Hadrian donned his robe once more and headed out to meet the twins.

*** ***

Rabastan Lestrange looked appraising at the red-headed twins in the sitting room. He had thought that all the Weasleys were Light, but Hadrian would not have marked these two if they were not different.

Fred and George Weasley, the notorious pranksters, sat side-by-side on the couch opposite Rabastan’s chair. Both of them mirrored the look he gave, studying them back. As one, they each raised a hand and touched their fingertips together. Rabastan raised an eyebrow.

“Fred! George!” Hadrian cried as he came into the room. With a quick flick of the wrist, he locked the doors and warded the room. “Mental connection still working then?”

“Strong as ever,” they replied in tandem and Hadrian shed his black robe. Everyone in the room carried the Bone-Sign, so there was no need to hide his identity.

“Mental connection?” Rabastan asked.

“Twin thing,” his arwr replied as he dropped into the older man’s lap, casually through his legs over the arm of the chair. “I put it in their personal marks. They can speak mind-to-mind when they touch. If Rodolphus takes the Bone-Sign, I can do the same for you two. I already put it in yours, anyway.”

“You didn’t tell me that!” Rabastan scolded, pulling the teen closer to him. Hadrian nuzzled into his chest. They had both missed each other greatly since Rabastan had left Azkaban.

“I didn’t trust Rodolphus yet,” he replied. “It wouldn’t do anything if he never took my mark, either. It would just stay inert.” He pressed his lips into Rabastan’s neck. “The Weasleys are Gemini, just like you, but it’s on their shoulders.”

“We love the connection Harry gave us,” one of the twins added, “and his method is great. We could be naked in front of Dumbles-“

“-and he wouldn’t be able to find a thing,” finished the second. “Everyone still thinks we’re Light-“

“-but we think it’s the greatest prank yet!” All three of them laughed.

“Has Dumbles heard about me yet?” Hadrian asked eagerly. The twins gave evil twin smirks.

“Yep. That’s how we knew to come to you. The Ministry just found what you left of Emmeline Vance at the entrance to Knockturn Alley, and everyone’s scared witless.”

“Nice choice,” Hadrian muttered, kissing Rabastan on the jaw.

“Of course, Snape telling stories about the mysterious Bone Man who makes hardened Death Eaters cry isn’t helping things there,” added the other.

“Damnit, I always miss the good stuff!” exclaimed the older man. He turned to the teen in his lap. “Who did you make cry while I was off dumping the body _you_ left?”

“Antonin Dolohov. He doubted my power at breakfast this morning. He sobbed quite loudly at the end,” his arwr grinned. The twins laughed, imagining the stringy man crying into his eggs and toast.

“Arwr, next time make sure I’m there to watch. Especially if you go after Bella.”

“Of course, dihiryn. Poor Bella still doesn’t believe in me. I may need to fix that soon.” The teen gave a feral grin, excited at the prospect of his particular brand of mental torture.

“Alright, we have to ask. Arwr?” piped up one twin.

“And dihiryn?” added the other.

“And are you guys together? Tell us, Harry!” they finished together. Hadrian laughed at their eagerness.

“First off, I don’t go by Harry anymore. Harry Potter is dead, and the goblins of Gringotts have obliged me by declaring him so. Gallus Hadrian Black exists in his place, but I prefer Hadrian to Gallus. I am Lord Black as well as Lord Potter now, since Harry Potter made Gallus Black his heir, though I sealed the will so Dumbles will never know.

“Arwr and dihiryn are Welsh. They mean hero and villain. They’re our ironic little nicknames for each other. The Lestranges are Welsh, and Rabastan taught me the language while I was with the Dementors last summer. Some of the prisoners liked me, especially since they didn’t know I was Harry Potter. I was already Hadrian Black to them. They taught me Latin, German, and some Old English and Old Saxon. Azkaban was really much better than Hogwarts.

“As for Rabastan here, he’s my…he’s my dihiryn, I guess. He was the only one in Azkaban with an extra bunk, so he was my cellmate when I was there. Now he’s just mine.” Hadrian gave them a smile, letting his happiness at being with Rabastan again wash through the connection he still had with all their minds. Even when he spoke out loud, he was always in their heads.

The twins were quiet, thinking. They had their fingertips connected again, and their eyes were glazed. They were clearly lost inside their shared mind.

“What’s it like, their connection?” Rabastan asked Hadrian.

“It’s incredible,” he murmured in reply. “Sometimes they share thoughts like you and I would speak to each other, but right now it’s all just feelings and images. It’s a completely different way of communicating. I hope Rodolphus agrees. You would love it.”

“Alright,” one of the red-heads said suddenly, “we approve of him if you do. He can’t really hide anything when you’re in his head, and he already knows you were Harry Potter.”

“But,” the other said, turning his gaze to Rabastan, “if you hurt him or betray him in any way, shape, or form, we will hunt you down and kill you in a way that would make the Bone Man sick to his stomach.”

“You could try,” Hadrian muttered under his breath. Then he shot out a hand to catch the pillow thrown at him. “Throw pillow does not mean you throw it at me!”

“Ok,” the twins shouted together, “question time!” Hadrian grinned.

“Fire away!”

*** ***

Hadrian watched as the Fred and George touched fingers again. He had known the interrogation was coming sooner or later. He hadn’t been able to see them privately enough the last summer to talk about his training or the Dark side. They had had to make do with hints, and they had to be even more careful in Hogwarts because of Umbridge and her spies. Now they could finally speak freely.

“When were you in Azkaban?” Fred asked.

“Occaisonally during the summer of the World Cup, before I went to stay with you guys. One of the Dementors would come and get me at nightfall for a few hours of training. Then I slept in Rabastan’s spare bed and they brought me back at dawn, before the Dursleys woke up. Last summer, when Umbridge sent them after me, the King came himself and spoke to me. He told me where it was so I could make a portkey. After that, I went whenever I left the Dursley’s house. Most of the time when you couldn’t find me at Grimmauld Place, I was in Azkaban. I also left Hogwarts whenever I could last year.”

“Are you going back to Hogwarts this year?” George continued the questioning while Fred nodded.

“Yep. In a couple days, Dumbles is gonna get a letter about enrolling Lord Gallus Hadrian Black as a sixth year at Hogwarts. I’ve no doubt he’ll be sorted into Slytherin. Besides,” Hadrian smirked, “I’m quite interested to see how the Light handles the sudden and mysterious death of their Savior. I bet they turn on the Slytherins right off, and I want to make sure things don’t get too nasty.”

“What’s with the name?”

“Blacks are always named after stars or constellations. I like Gallus. It isn’t recognized as a constellation anymore, Merlin knows why, so it fits me. Still there, but not there. It means ‘rooster.’” Three raised eyebrows greeted that statement. “The crow of the rooster is fatal to a basilisk. I killed a basilisk. Poetic, no?”

“Will anyone at school know who you are?” Clearly the Weasleys had a lot of questions.

“Only Draco Malfoy knows everything. I’m not sure how much to tell Severus Snape. No one outside Voldemort’s Inner Circle will be able to connect Lord Black to the Bone Man. All the Dark students will know the Bone Man is Voldemort’s ally and partner, but none of them know Hadrian Black. Draco and his father know I was Harry Potter. I just finished marking Draco as my second-in-command, in fact. We’ve agreed to be friends as well.”

The twins sat back, stunned a little.

“Well, young Hadrian-“

“-you did do the thing right, didn’t you? One more question, though.”

“Will the wards really remove the Order from Grimmauld Place?” Hadrian gave his most evil smirk in response.

“Of course! That’s my house now, and I want my enemies out of it! At midnight of August first, the Fidelius will fall and anyone who was given the secret will find themselves on their arses in the street. The best part is that anything they aren’t physically carrying will be left behind, and anything they leave behind will be burnt. Except for Order paperwork. That all gets sealed up in the library so I can turn it over to my Lord. I do hope no one leaves their wand behind,” Hadrian finished innocently.

The twins laughed uproariously, and he could feel Rabastan’s body shake as he chuckled. George spoke first, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Oh, you should have seen Dumbles’s face when he read your letter.”

“Or Ron’s, when he realized he wouldn’t get a piece of your fortune now that you’ve kicked the bucket. And Hermione’s when she realized the library was locked!”

“Oh, they’re not gonna be happy to see you at school!” they finished together, dissolving into laughter again. Hadrian joined in with his own twice-voiced laugh.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Voldemort studied the young wizard seated on his right at the breakfast table. Introducing the Bone Man to the lower-ranking Death Eaters had gone remarkably well. When Voldemort had questioned him later, Hadrian had confirmed that he had indeed been in all of their minds, over fifty people altogether. He explained that none of them had questioned his power after stories had spread about Dolohov, and that he had made his touch on their minds cold, like icy fingers on tender skin. The Dark Lord was very impressed with the teen’s power and control.

If he were truthful with himself, he would admit that it scared him a little.

Judging by the number of blank, distracted faces around the table, Hadrian was carrying on several private conversations at once with members of the Inner Circle, while speak with Voldemort about his new wand.

//What happened to the wand you had?// he questioned the boy.

//The holly wand? I stopped using it. After our duel in the graveyard, I realized that any wand would have limitations, so I starting training intensively in wandless magic. I’m better now without a wand than most wizards ever are with one. I still have the holly wand, if you want it.//

//Why would I want Harry Potter’s wand?// Voldemort asked, curious and a little insulted.

//You don’t know?// The Dark Lord shook his head, cocking an eyebrow. //It’s the brother to your yew wand. Olivander told me when I bought it. I’d be willing to bet it chose me because I was still your Horcrux then. Twin cores, two feathers from the same phoenix, that’s why our magic connected whenever we dueled. The holly wand would probably work just as well for you as your yew wand. Double-casting would be a big advantage over Dumbledore. I could help you train some, if you want.//

//Thank you, that would be excellent,// Voldemort said sincerely. //Have you found a core for your new wand?// The Dark Lord was interested in the fact that the teen was making his own wand from very…unusual materials. He wondered why it never occurred to _him_ to craft his own wand in his rise to power.

//I spoke with the Dementor King last night. He gave a vial of his blood to use in core mixture. I have a Dementor’s cloak as well. I’ll bind the whole thing to me with my own blood. If it works right, it should never channel magic for anyone else but me.// Hadrian paused, then continued hesitantly, //My Lord, I would ask a favor of you.//

//Ask, Hadrian. Do not fear my anger, you are my equal,// Voldemort chided.

//If she is amenable, may I have a vial of Nagini’s venom? I am a parselmouth, and I cast some of my spells in parsel. I believe the use of snake venom would make those spells stronger.//

Voldemort considered this. The boy had revolutionary ideas about wandmaking and magic. Voldemort had never considered casting in parseltongue. He wondered what changes it would make to the effect of the spell.

//Of course. I will tell her you wish to speak with her. Inform me when you have completed the wand, I wish to see you test it.//

//Thank you, my Lord, I will let you know. It should be finished by the end of the month.//

//Your birthday is coming up, is it not?// Voldemort asked suddenly. //The thirty-first?// At that, the presence in his mind grew blunt edges, not painful yet, only the threat. Evidently, he had ceased his other conversations and everyone at the table was feeling the same effect, because they all turned to look at him. The Dark Lord did not need anyone to tell him that information tying Hadrian to Harry Potter was a dangerous topic.

//Harry Potter’s birthday is seconds before midnight on July thirty-first. Gallus Hadrian Black’s is seconds after midnight on August first. I plan to celebrate my sixteenth birthday by throwing any remaining Order member out of my house in London. Excuse me, my Lord.//

Hadrian pulled his mind back so quickly many in the room clutched their foreheads in shock. A few whimpered at the sudden loneliness. The teen got up from the table and swept from the room.

“My Lord, if I may, did you insult him in some way?” Lucius asked. Voldemort glared at him.

*** ***

Draco was studying the silver runes on his skin when he felt Hadrian return. He had not yet left Hadrian’s room, as the other teen had shared a bed with Rabastan rather than disturb Draco’s recovery.

//Like them?// Hadrian flopped onto the bed next to the blond. He was the epitome of casual when around people he trusted, but all grace and formality around others.

“They’re beautiful, Hadrian,” he whispered. “I love my personal mark. Thank you.”

“No, thank you for accepting them. Any pain?” he poked the muscle around the new runes.

“Nope, it’s perfect. How did you come up with the idea?” Hadrian laughed his peculiar two-voiced laugh.

“Would you believe I got the idea from knucklebones first? Then I did a lot of study on the uses of bones, especially as amulets, and I wondered if the carvings could be on a bone still _inside_ the body. Lots of reading and practice and study, and voila,” he waved a hand, changing the runes on it to black, “the Bone Man.”

They were quiet a moment before Draco had a sudden thought.

“How are you going to keep people from recognizing you at school? Harry Potter had the most recognizable face in the wizarding world.”

“Just a few changes. Add a couple glamours, remove some glamours. I’ll need a new eye color…” he mused.

“Remove glamours? What are you hiding?” Draco knew he had asked the wrong question when the cold wind blew across his mind, but it was quickly replaced by…resignation? Weariness? A touch of fear?

“I don’t want to lie to you, but I wish you hadn’t asked just yet. Ward the door, please?” Draco did so, sitting up to face his new friend, who was now cross-legged in the center of the bed. “Don’t ask any questions yet,” he warned, shucking his shirt. Hadrian closed his eyes, and his glamours melted away.

The Bone Man was covered in scars. The right side of his face had half a dozen long marks running from his nose and brow down to his jaw. Horizontal lines on his neck told the story of someone whose throat had been cut open, deeply, more than once. Draco counted five scars there, five attempted killings. Knife scars, years old, were layered over his heart. Ragged marks covered his wrists and arms, bondage scars. Random other marks were scatter across his torso.

Eyes still closed, Hadrian told a deep shuddering breath and opened his mouth, but his voice caught in his throat. He simply shook his head and took another deep breath. A knock at the door startled Draco.

“Draco? Can you let us in?” It was Rabastan. Hadrian nodded. When Draco opened the door, Rabastan was followed in by the largest Dementor he had ever seen. Hadrian had spoken the truth, Draco felt no coldness from the Dementor’s presence. “It’s the Dementor King,” Rabastan explained. “He felt Hadrian’s pain and came and got me.”

The Death Eater clambered onto the bed wrapped his arms around Hadrian from behind. The Dementor King drifted over and began to run a grey-skinned hand across his short, inky hair. Hadrian sighed and began to speak.

“When the Dark Lord killed my parents, Dumbledore sent me to live with my last living blood relatives. He claimed there were blood wards around the Dursleys’ home that would keep me safe from any Death Eater attacks.

“I knew nothing about magic until I got my Hogwarts letter. The Dursleys are Muggles of the worst kind, the kind that hates anything different. They were normal, and I was the worst kind of abnormal they could imagine, even if I didn’t know it. They told me my parents died in a car crash. I grew up in the cupboard under the stair, hated, and I didn’t even know why. They starved me. I got the belt after any accidental magic, but I couldn’t stop it.

“They didn’t start trying to kill me until after I turned eleven. When Hagrid brought me back from Diagon Alley, my Uncle Vernon greeted me by cutting my throat and throwing me in the cupboard. It’s the first thing he does every summer now. It almost drains my magic every time. He gives me a week to see if I die. When I don’t, he drags me up to my room upstairs, with seven locks on the door and bars on the window.

“Then he starts the torture. Just whipping until I was thirteen. Then he started burning.” He held up his hands. His palms were covered with shiny burns, erasing his fingertips. “I got these from accidentally inflating his sister Marge like a balloon before third year.

“Last summer was the worst. The Weasleys had blown up their fireplace the summer before when they came to get me for the World Cup. He brought out the knives for that. He got desperate when he couldn’t kill me, started trying to carve out my heart. I think he thought I was a vampire. It explains the name: Monster.”

Hadrian pulled away from Rabastan and twisted to show his back. Thick layers of cross-hatched scars attested to years of beatings with deep gouges caused by the buckle of a belt. Running diagonally from shoulder to hip were letters, carved deeply with a blade and tinged grey. MONSTER.

“He rubbed ash into the cuts. It’s an old-fashioned was to create a tattoo. Vernon’s grandfather was in the Royal Navy, he had a tattoo done with ash.”

The Dementor King ran one long finger over the word. The color matched his grey skin. A single tear ran from Hadrian’s closed eyes before he broke out into sobs. Before Draco or Rabastan could react, the Dementor King pulled the Wizard-Lord into his cloak, surrounding and protecting him. Draco could feel the echoes of Hadrian’s pain and despair and shame and self-hatred in his mind, and his eyes began to water.

*** ***

Hadrian was ashamed of himself for breaking down in front of the King. He was supposed to be the strong Wizard-Lord who would lead them into an age of power and acceptance, not some weak, sniveling child.

//Hush, my Wizard,// the King told him, //there is no soul who could fault you for your feelings. Do not be ashamed of yourself and your past. Be strong because of them.//

//Thank you, Great Royal,// Hadrian whispered. The King held him tighter, soothing him with his mind and his cold hands.

//Your friends wish to hold you as well, my Wizard. The Villain is especially impatient,// the King chuckled. Hadrian gave a snort that was half sob and pulled away. Rabastan did look very anxious. He pulled Hadrian to his chest.

“Arwr,” he sighed, pressing his lips into the teen’s hair, “you can put them away now. They were the true monsters. You’re free now, and we will protect you. Hell, even the Dark Lord would fight to keep you safe.”

Draco reached out and took his hands, running his thumbs across the knuckles.

“They might have been Harry Potter’s relatives,” the blond said, “but they aren’t Hadrian Black’s family. You’re the Bone Man now. You’re powerful and independent and _beautiful_. The Bone-Sign you gave us is more important than blood.”

//This is your family, my Wizard,// the King added. //The Light has wronged you, but the Dark welcomes you with open arms and hearts. All the Souleaters give you their love and loyalty. Write your life anew, my Wizard.//

Hadrian wiped the last of the tears from his eyes and detached himself from Rabastan and Draco. He rose with a graceful movement to stand. He extended his hand to the King, who took it in his and bowed deeply, bringing his head below the level of Hadrians.

**Thank you, Great Royal. You are to true friend to the Wizard-Lord** , he said with both his mind and his voice. He kissed the Dementor King on the brow and bowed shallowly. **You are a gift to the Souleaters. Lead them well. I bless you.**

As he spoke the last words, he let some of his magic flow into the King. He gave the kind Dementor the gift of verbal speech.

“Thank you, my Wizard. I shall serve my race and my Wizard-Lord with everything I possess until my dying day.”

Hadrian and the King bowed once more, completing the formal-yet-emotional ceremony. Wandlessly, Hadrian unlocked the door and the King took his leave.

Rabastan and Draco had eyes the size of saucers.

*** ***

Rabastan was astonished at how easily his arwr changed from broken child to the most graceful king without warning. Then he remembered that Hadrian had never been exactly normal. Some of his closest friends were Dementors, after all. He chuckled at Draco, whose mouth was hanging open unattractively. Hadrian grinned at the blond and shut his jaw with gentle fingers.

“Malfoys don’t gape, dear Dragon.”

Draco blinked.

“I think you broke your new friend, arwr. What did you do?” Hadrian paused with in shirt half on and shrugged.

“I wanted to give the King a gift, for my thanks. He really has been a great friend, considering I just strolled in and claimed more power than he has. It felt like what I should do, so I blessed him.” He pulled his shirt on. “Gave him part of my magic so he could have a voice. I’m sorry I broke down on you guys.”

“Don’t be,” Draco recovered his voice. He ran a finger lightly, carefully, over one of the marks on Hadrian’s face. “This is why no one will recognize you?” Hadrian tensed but did not pull away. He blew out deeply.

“Yeah. I’ll cover my scar- my recognizable scar- and change my eyes, but all the rest will be open. My hair’s too short now for the ‘Potter curse,’ and no one wants to ask questions of a deformed man. I’ve kept them all glamoured since the first day of school. No one but the Dursleys know I have them.”

Rabastan was thoughtful. Hadrian hated his blood family, and they him. If the blood ties were cut, he could truly start a new life as Gallus Hadrian Black. The Death Eater had an idea, but he kept it to himself. He would need some big favors. If it all worked out, it would make a great birthday present for his arwr.

When he started listening to Hadrian and Draco again, they were talking about meeting with Dumbledore.

“I want to see his face when he realizes a schoolboy is throwing his precious Order out in the street!”

“What?! What did you do?” Draco exclaimed. Hadrian shared a grin with Rabastan.

“Sirius let Dumbles use the Black townhouse in London as the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. When…when Sirius died, he named me his heir. When I disappeared from the train this summer, I went straight Gringotts to meet with the only person I was sure I could trust: Griphook, my accounts manager. I claimed the Black and Potter titles, then I combined the vaults and attached the Potter title to the House of Black. Griphook helped me with all the paperwork to declare Harry James Potter legally dead and create Gallus Hadrian Black. Now I own Sirius’s house, so I wrote Dumbles and the Order a letter. The Fidelius Charm will break on August first, and if they don’t leave, the wards will throw them out.”

Draco collapsed into surprisingly high-pitched giggles.

“You- you’re too much sometimes!” he gasped out.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

August first dawned bright and clear. Hadrian groaned as someone opened all the curtains at once, letting the morning light flood into the room.

“Happy sixteenth birthday, Hadrian!” Rabastan was disturbingly chipper in the mornings for someone who had spent over a decade in prison. The teen in question rolled over and buried his face into Draco’s shoulder. The blond chuckled.

“Not a morning person, eh?”

“Shut up, Dragon,” Hadrian yawned. “It’s my birthday, you have to be nice to me.”

“Speaking of it birthdays and presents and for you,” Rabastan began, but Hadrian shot out of bed before his dihiryn could finish. He threw on his clothes and ever-present hooded robe. He always wore it outside warded rooms in the Manor, in case one of the lower-ranking passed by. He needed to be seen as the mysterious Bone Man to them.

While Draco dressed for breakfast, Hadrian reflected on his last actions as the Bone Man. He had killed Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and key Order member. When he removed her bones, he had assembled them into a skeleton again, posed like someone under the Cruciatus Curse. A dash of magic and he could make it writhe and the jaw open and close. Then, he had snuck into Grimmauld Place and left a note on the kitchen table. It had just one line, ‘Bones for the Bone Man,’ and his Bone-Sign. He and Voldemort had shared a laugh, imagining the reactions of the villagers on Hogsmeade in the morning.

Hadrian had grown close to the Dark Lord recently. No longer shocked by his pale, snake-like visage, he regarded Voldemort as an honorary father, and the man had taken him as a protégé. They often trained together, Voldemort teaching Hadrian all the Dark magic he knew and Hadrian helping him learn wandless magic and double casting. The old holly wand had turned out to work perfectly for the Dark Lord.

“Ready for a spectacular birthday breakfast?” Rabastan asked as they left the bedroom.

//Who will be there?// Hadrian asked, switching the his thought-voice in the hallways.

“You’ll see! And we have the best gift for you, too.”

As soon as the door to the breakfast room was shut and warded, Hadrian was tackled by a lot of red hair.

“Fred! George!”

Normally the entire Inner Circle ate breakfast together, but for Hadrian’s birthday, only his friends had come. Fred and George had used the excuse of the shop to get away, since they were now spies in the Order for the Dark. The rest of his marked were there: Draco, Rabastan, Rodolphus (who had joined his brother in the twin bond as soon as he heard), Bellatrix (Hadrian had forgiven her, even if she didn’t know he had once been Harry Potter), Lucius and Narcissa. The Dark Lord sat at the head of the table, a sincere and soft smile on his face. In the opposite corner of the room, Hadrian saw the Dementor King, who bowed to him. Everyone laughed and chatted happily through breakfast, Hadrian’s joy spilling over into all their minds. It was strong enough that even the King did not need to feed.

“Can we go see if the Order gets thrown out today?” Draco asked as elves cleared the dishes away.

“You must wait a while longer, young Malfoy,” the Dark Lord said. “Hadrian has not received his present yet.” Hadrian blushed and everyone laughed good-naturedly. Everyone stood and moved away, except Bella, who took his arm and gently steered him toward Voldemort. The older wizard conjured a silver bowl and three knives. Hadrian gasped as he suddenly understood.

“A blood adoption? Oh, my Lord…” he was unable to say more, but everyone could feel his overwhelming happiness and gratitude. They all three took a knife, and Voldemort began the ritual, acting as the caster.

“Gallus Hadrian Black, do you deny your blood?”

“I, Gallus Hadrian Black, called the Bone Man, deny the blood of James Charlus Potter and Lilian Evans Potter.”

“I, Thomas Marvolo Riddle, Jr., called Lord Voldemort, accept Gallus Hadrian Black, the Bone Man, as the son of my blood.” He sliced across his palm from wrist to fingers and bled into the bowl.

“I, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, accept Gallus Hadrian Black, the Bone Man, as the son of my blood.” She cut across her hand and bled into the bowl.

“I, Gallus Hadrian Black, called the Bone Man, accept Thomas Marvolo Riddle, Jr., Lord Voldemort, as the father of my blood, and Bellatrix Black Lestrange as the mother of my blood.” His hands shook with excitement as he made the cut and placed his palm in the bowl of mixed blood.

“I name thee Gallus Hadrian Riddle-Black, the Bone Man, and my heir,” the Dark Lord intoned, casting the magic to cement the relationship.

“So mote be it,” the three spoke together. Blinding light flashed, sealing the new family by ancient magic. Voldemort vanished the bowl and knives. Bella healed her hand and Hadrian’s.

“Mother?” he whispered tentatively. She smiled at him and wrapped him in a strong hug. “You don’t hate me for not telling you who I used to be?”

“No, my son. How could I hate you for something you never wanted to be? I already knew you used to be Harry Potter.”

“I told her when I asked her to join the ritual. I believe she even sat through a rational conversation with Rodolphus about it,” Voldemort said, placing his hand on Hadrian’s shoulder.

“Father?” he asked tentatively, unsure is the Dark Lord would appreciate it. The older man smirked.

“Not in front of my Death Eaters. My son and heir.” To everyone’s shock, he too hugged Hadrian. “You’re a real Black now, and an heir to Salazar Slytherin. Which reminds me, I have another gift for you, my son.” Voldemort summoned an elf, who brought him a wrapped box.

Hadrian opened the box and lifted out a three-foot snake. He gasped. The snake, a male, was a rich black with pure white eyes. He wrapped around Hadrian’s arm and studied the new wizard.

“Earlier this summer, Nagini hatched snakelings. Her young were attacked by birds in the forest one day, and this was the only one to survive. Nagini and I believe he will be a good familiar for you.”

Hadrian was briefly saddened by the thought of his last familiar, Hedwig. Umbridge had attempted to steal a letter she was carrying near the end of the school year. The snowy owl had fought back, and Umbridge killed her during the struggle. He had mourned his lost friend and added another reason to kill the woman slowly to his list.

~Hello,~ he said to the snake that was still studying him. ~Do I meet your satisfaction?~

~Yes,~ he responded, nodding. ~You will be my wizard. Before you name me, you show know my powers.~ Without any warning, the snake changed into the largest raven Hadrian had ever seen. The bird still had pure white eyes. When he opened his beak, Hadrian saw a forked tongue. The raven still spoke in parsel. ~My mother and I did not tell the Dark Lord of my powers. I am unique, much like you, Wizard-Lord.~

Voldemort stared at the raven as he changed back into a snake.

“My son, you are very lucky he has chosen you as his wizard,” he murmured. “I have never heard of such a thing. An animal with two forms? It seems impossible.”

~I believe I have shown it is indeed possible, Red-Eyes,~ the snake replied scathingly. Hadrian was reminded of Severus.

~My father is merely surprised that any piece of knowledge escaped his vast knowledge of the world,~ Hadrian explained, earning a muttered “brat” from the Dark Lord. ~I shall call you Änderung.~

~I am pleased,~ Änderung replied, wrapping around his master’s neck once more.

“I have named him Änderung, German for ‘change,’” Hadrian explain for the benefit of those who were not parselmouths. Everyone smiled, and Hadrian was happy on his birthday for the first time in his life.

*** ***

Lord Voldemort had never wanted to be a father, but, watching Hadrian, he was glad he had made the choice to adopt the boy when Rabastan had suggested it. Briefly he wondered if he would have to involve himself in some way with the strange open relationship the boy was having with Rabastan and Draco, but he decided Hadrian was too old to play the concerned-father role. He would simply love the boy to the best of his ability, as he did already. Albus may scoff, but the Dark Lord could in fact love. Merlin bless Hadrian Riddle-Black for joining the Dark Lord and making him sane once more.

Perhaps that was another of Hadrian’s abilities? Madness had reigned on the Dark side before he came. Innocents were killed and there was wanton destruction instead of the rebuilding of the world Voldemort had hoped for. Now, he had returned to his more political ideals, and even Bella was calm, sitting with their son and young Malfoy. The two sets of twins were testing the connections the Bone Man had given them by playing a two-on-two game of chess without using words.

Voldemort was glad to have Hadrian. He and the boy had grown very close in the fortnight he had been with them. He had no doubt the boy loved him. He was also pleased to have an heir. It had distressed him that Salazar Slytherin’s line would end with him, but he could find no one worthy until Hadrian. His son was very powerful, and he was…proud. As the clock struck eleven, he wondered if Albus would spontaneously die of surprise to see the Dark Lord and his family.

“Hadrian, aren’t you leaving soon for London? You need to change your appearance soon,” he reminded his son. He wondered at the lightning-quick flash of distress he felt from the boy. Rabastan abandoned to reach out for Hadrian.

“They can leave if you want, arwr. They don’t have to see yet,” he said softly, to Voldemort’s confusion.

Hadrian furrowed his brow and walked over to the Dementor King. The creature folded him up in his cloak. Voldemort was becoming worried about the boy’s distress when he spoke.

“I’m not ready to tell everyone yet. Rabastan, Draco, Mum and Father can stay. Can the rest of you leave, please? Thank you for celebrating my birthday with me, it was wonderful.”

When the others had left, Hadrian stood in the center of the room, staring at his feet. The Dark Lord had never seen his son act so childlike. Nervousness and shame and the slightest hint of rage seeped from his mind.

“Your worries are unfounded, my Wizard,” the Dementor King soothed. “Your blood-parents will not reject you. Their love for you is true, not like what you have known in the past. Remember what I told you last time.”

“Of course, Great Royal.” Hadrian raised his head and stared forward as layers of glamours melted away, revealing glowing green eyes and so much more.

When Voldemort realized that it was the Muggles who had marked his son so horribly, he was disgusted with Albus. How could he place a boy he meant to be a Savior with people who tried to kill him repeatedly? Torture was to kind to be his fate. Hadrian felt the disgust in his mind and immediately withdrew completely, startling the man. Oh, the boy thought his father was disgusted with _him_ , with his appearance. He took the stiff boy in his arms.

“Not at you, my son, never at you,” he promised, “at the Muggles who did this and Albus for keeping you prisoner there.” He took his son’s face gently between his hands. “Gallus Hadrian Riddle-Black, I will never be disgusted with you. I made you my son because I love you, and I will only ever love you.” He wiped away the single tear that rolled down Hadrian cheek as he felt the presence ease back into his mind.

“As will I,” added Bella, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “We won’t ask any questions, and you can tell us as much or a little as you want.”

“The Dursleys…,” he started, but shook his head. “There’s too much to say. I’ll tell you when we come back. I’m letting people see the scars when I go to Hogwarts. No one has seen, so my true appearance can be my disguise. I just need to hide this one,” he pointed to the famous lightning bolt mark, “and change my eyes.”

“What color are you thinking?” Rabastan piped up, eager to distract Hadrian. He frowned in thought.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Mine used to be a very pale blue,” Voldemort informed his son. Hadrian seemed to mull the new information over before a sudden smile appeared.

“Got it!” He closed his eyes and waved his hand before blinking rapidly. “Weird feeling. I’ve never transfigured them before, the black is just a glamour. This won’t be as suspicious as a glamour, though.”

The Dark Lord looked into the very different eyes of his son. His left eye, on the unmarred side of his face, was the same black as Bella’s, but there was a ring of red the same color as his own in the center. On the right side, where his face was cut through with scars, there was an orb the same pale silver-blue as his were once. The piercing gaze, however, was all Hadrian’s.

“Very striking,” he murmured.

“I love it!” Bella squealed. “You look so dangerous now!”

“I agree,” Draco said, “I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side.” Rabastan nodded, and Voldemort thought he heard the Dementor King chuckle.

“Are you runes still green?” he wondered. Hadrian let his runes bleed through.

“Good, still green,” he sighed. “I’m rather partial to that green, it looks exactly like _Avada Kedavra_. Maybe the color isn’t from the person’s eyes at all? Something to do with the magical signature or the soul, I bet. Father, I wonder if yours would be blue of red.” Voldemort chuckled.

“I don’t know, and now is not the time to find out. You and young Malfoy have a busy day ahead, messing with Albus, and it is time for you to leave.”

“Don’t be too good!” Bella called out as the teens, plus one snake/raven, left, escorted by the Dementor King.

“Don’t get in too much trouble either!” he added, feeling like every other father in history. Rabastan just laughed.

*** ***

Albus sat in in office at Hogwarts, waiting for someone to come. He had received a letter the day before ask for an appointment on the afternoon of August first about a new student. He was curious as to who this could be. To his knowledge, every magical child who should have gone to Hogwarts was currently enrolled. A knock at the door made him pause in the act of sipping his tea.

“Enter he called.” Two teenage boys entered the room. The first was Draco Malfoy. The second made him drop his teacup.

The boy was not particularly tall, but he was strong and lithe, with his figure enhanced by the well-cut robes of the deepest black. His hair was very short and scars covered his face and neck. He would have looked dangerous enough as it was, but his _eyes_. They were different, one black with a touch of red, the other ice-blue. The mismatched eyes fixed upon the Headmaster with a calculating gaze.

“Does my appearance shock you, Headmaster?” the boy asked in a cool voice.

“No, of course not my boy. I’m merely surprised,” Albus waved away the comment. “Sit, please. Am I correct in assuming that you are the new student?” He gestured to the chairs. The Malfoy boy sat on the scarred one’s right in an instinctive maneuver.

“You are. I was privately tutored for years, but my tutor has recently died and I wish to complete my education here.”

“What is your name, my boy?” Albus needed to know who he was. Even privately-tutored and homeschooled student are on the Hogwarts register until they decline their acceptance to the school.

“My name is Gallus Hadrian Riddle-Black, recently Lord Black and Lord Potter. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?” The boy gave a cold smirk. Of course Albus had heard of him, this boy had thrown them out of Headquarters that very day! He had no idea that Lord Black was still a _schoolboy_.

“Not until quite recently, I’m afraid,” he said calmly, though inside he was seething. How dare this mere _boy_ mock him? “Would you tell me more about your schooling so far?”

“Certainly. When I was one, I was sent away to live with relatives. England was not a safe place for me, so I went to Germany. There, I was taught by a hermit crazier than my own mother. He died just this past year, and I decided I could protect myself well enough to return to Britain. I am sixteen now, so I will be in the sixth year class here, but my curriculum will need to be different.” He produced a sealed parchment, which he opened with a tap from his long, slightly curved and curiously pale wand, made of a substance Albus had never seen before. “My scores through the German Ministry of Magic, including some equivalent to British NEWTs.”

Albus looked over the scores. The boy had gotten perfect scores in the full range of OWLs offered by Hogwarts and a few that were not, such as Basic Magical Theory and Basic Ritual Magic. He also had perfect scores in NEWT-equivalent Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Advanced Magical Theory and Advanced Ritual Magic, both of which were not offered by Hogwarts.

This Gallus Black was a child prodigy, to have taken NEWTs two years early. Not even Albus himself, or that genius boy Tom Riddle had managed that. ‘Although…,’ he thought. The boy had called himself not Black, but _Riddle_ -Black. Perhaps…?

“Everything seems to be in order. I’m sure your Head of House will be able to figure out a curriculum with you on the first day.” He set the paper aside. He wanted to use Legilimancy with his next question, but had to push down his fear at looking into those empty, mismatched eyes. “You mentioned being unsafe here, but you were sent away right around the fall of Lord Voldemort. Would you not have been safer here?” As he asked, he reached out for the boy’s mind, planning to search through the memories the question would bring up. What he found shocked him.

The boy’s mindscape was _Azkaban_ , complete with Dementors, though the cells were empty. Rain pelted down from a grey sky, and a wild wind chilled him to the bone. As soon as he landed, two of the Dementor guards seized him with strong arms, dragging him towards the gate. They through him toward the icy black sea and out of the boy’s mind entirely.

A tiny, cold smirk appeared on the boy’s lips as the Headmaster sat back in quickly-veiled shock.

“It wasn’t safe simply because of who my parents are. They are rather…nortorious. I do hope I can expect to be treated fairly and as my own person, as well as safe here.”

“I don’t know about that, Lord Black. Harry Potter was the most guarded wizard alive, and he disappeared from the school train,” added the Malfoy boy, speaking for the first time. Black glanced at him.

“Ah yes, Harry Potter. I had forgotten that this school is used to fame, though mine is more like infamy. I hope I can trust you to keep me safe, just as you would for any other student, Headmaster. My father is quite possessive these days, and his anger is…legendary.” Malfoy snickered before Black shot him a scolding look.

“Yes, what happened to Mr. Potter is quite a tragedy. I assure you, we are tightening security as we speak. Who are your parents, if I may ask?” Albus thought they must be very Dark, if the boy anticipated students attacking him left and right.

“If I told you, you would not believe me. Will you allow my blood to tell you?” Receiving Albus’s trademark genial nod, the boy summoned a sheet of parchment and cut his thumb with his pale wand, releasing a drop of blood on the parchment. Holding his wand to it, he spoke a spell to reveal blood family. The drop of blood expanded and changed, spelling out three names. He handed the parchment to Albus.

“My parents, Headmast.”

Thomas Marvolo Riddle, Jr. – Bellatrix Black Lestrange

|

Gallus Hadrian Riddle-Black

 

Albus was shock once again. He had no idea that Voldemort had a son. ‘Why didn’t any of my spies ever tell me?’ He wondered if having the boy in school was a good thing. Perhaps he could convince the boy to turn against his evil parents and support the Light instead. After all, they had sent him away to Germany, and none of his father’s supporters had taken him in. Yes, having his own blood turn against him would be a terrible blow to Voldemort and the Dark.

“I see. Well, this does explain a few things, doesn’t it?” Albus said, putting a twinkle in his eyes from his plans. “I assure you, my boy, no one will treat you unfairly because of your father’s name, nor your mother’s.”

“Headmaster,” the boy said, fingering the pale wand, “I am not your ‘boy,’ and I would appreciate it if you called me Lord Black. It is my title, after all.”

“Of course,” the Headmaster bristled inwardly. “What is your wand made of? I have never seen one like it before.”

“Nor will you ever again,” was the boy’s quick reply. “I crafted it myself.”

“How extraordinary. May I see it?”

“Draco, has the Headmaster ever asked to see your wand?” Black asked the boy beside him.

“I can’t say that he has, Hadrian,” Malfoy drawled. Albus frowned. He needed to get a look at that wand!

“Lord Black, I need to register your wand. It’s a common procedure here at Hogwarts. I’ve never asked for Draco Malfoy’s because it was registered by the wandmaker when he bought it.”

“Draco, anywhere in the official school documents or the Hogwarts charter, does it say that students must register their wands?”

“No, nowhere, Lord Black. I do believe you can keep your wand to yourself.”

“Thank you, Draco. I do not appreciate being lied to, Headmaster,” the boy said in a cold voice, directing his piercing gaze back to Albus, “especially not to be manipulated into giving up personal information. There is no reason for you to know anything about my wand other than that it works perfectly.” He rose, looking at the secretly fuming Headmaster with a slight sneer of disdain. “If there is nothing else, we will take our leave. Good day, Headmaster.” And with that, the boy was gone. Malfoy shut the door behind him with a snap.

Albus stalked over to the fireplace, tossing in some Floo powder and calling for Severus Snape.

*** ***

Severus listened with hidden amusement to the Headmaster as he ranted about his frustrations with Hadrian Black. He had not known Hadrian was coming to Hogwarts, but he found himself looking forward to it, especially when he heard about the boy’s test scores. Hadrian would be a vast improvement in his class from Potter.

The bit about him being the Dark Lord’s son surprised him, though. He could not doubt it, however. Blood spells could not lie.

“I assure you, Albus, no one knew the Dark Lord had a child at all, much less with Bellatrix Lestrange. Though, she has always been somewhat…eager…for his attention.”

“We should make every effort to turn him away from the Dark. With his intelligence, Ravenclaw should be a good fit for him. We cannot allow the boy to follow in his father’s footsteps. Discourage any friendships with Slytherins you see forming, Severus. Speak to Draco Malfoy and break them apart.” Severus frowned.

“I will treat the boy as I do any other student, Albus. I will not judge him on his parentage, but on his skill in my class,” he replied. He disliked Albus’s manipulations around the boy. Hadrian Black was the only wizard possibly more powerful than the Dark Lord, and Albus’s plans were not likely to end well.

“Just as you did for Harry, you mean?” the Headmaster scoffed. “You had no issues with judging him by his father’s actions, I remember.” Severus narrowed his eyes.

“Which I did by your instructions as well, if I recall, to keep him away from my House. I regret that I had to treat him the way I did. James Potter may have been his father, but Lily Evans was his mother. We deserved a chance to learn about each other, which you took from us both.” Severus’s voice was cold. He wished he could apologize to Potter. He must have more of his mother than just her eyes, but he would never know now. “I need to prepare to meet the Dark Lord shortly. Is there anything else you need, Albus?”

When Severus was dismissed, he Flooed directly to Malfoy Manor. Sitting in the Dark Lord’s chair in his study was a cloaked and hooded figure. The presence stealing across his mind told him who it was.

“Bone Man,” he greeted with a shallow bow, “where is the Dark Lord?”

//He has gone for a walk in the gardens. The weather is lovely today.// Severus nodded. //Did you learn much from Dumbledore, Severus?// the Bone Man asked, amused, as he dropped his hood, revealing his disturbingly solid black eyes.

“You have made him quite frustrated, Lord Black. He, and I, were surprised by your heritage. I was not aware my Lord had a son.” Black smirked.

//Yes, I did make quite an impression on him.// A chuckle rolled through his mind. //He dropped his teacup when he saw me. My face for school is quite striking, more so than this one.//

“What is it, if I may ask?” Severus asked. Albus had said nothing about his appearance other than to mention his “strange eyes.”

//You may. It is time to reveal to you what has been hidden.// Severus frowned.

Black rose from the chair, shucking both robe and shirt. Standing half-naked in the middle of the study, he closed his eyes and removed his glamours. Severus gasped at the scarred body the teen revealed, bearing testament to a dozen attempts to kill him. “MONSTER” was carved in grey letters across his back, speaking of the exact opinion of the boy’s torturers.

“This is how you will look at Hogwarts?”

//This is how I look every moment of my life since I turned eleven. I simply keep it all hidden. I had relatives with rather negative opinions on magic.// The Bone Man’s mental presence was no longer warm and safe, but it was not cold either. It was simply there. The boy had locked away all his emotions to reveal his secret to Severus. He still had not opened his eyes.

“My Lord and Bella? Not even they would do this to their own child, especially not just for being magic!” Severus was appalled by the thought.

//The Dark Lord and Bella performed a blood adoption ritual this morning. My sixteenth birthday present was a new family. These marks are all I have left of my previous family. I have only existed as Gallus Hadrian Black since summer began. You knew my past identity quite well.//

As Severus watched, the boy opened achingly familiar green eyes and traced a single scar on his forehead.

“Do you know me now, Professor?”

*** ***

If Hadrian had not been so nervous, he might have laughed at Snape’s floundering.

“Potter?” he whispered.

“I was, once. Harry Potter is dead now, thanks to the goblins of Gringotts. I will never carry that name again. These scars, so kindly bestowed by the Dursleys, are my only reminder of the blood I renounced this morning. I have a mother who loves more than anything now, and a father who is proud of me. Do my actions shock you, Severus?”

“Yes,” the man replied truthfully, “the boy I knew would not have done this. You have changed a great deal.”

“No, the mask you knew would not have done this. The Gryffindor Golden Boy, the Boy-Who-Lived, with his mother’s eyes and father’s everything else, with his single famous scar and average power, would not have done this. You knew a mask I hid behind. Who in the Light would trust a boy more powerful than the great Albus Dumbledore? A boy who the Dementors proclaimed their prophesized Wizard-Lord at the age of thirteen? I couldn’t act the way I wanted to in Gryffindor, but Dumbledore forced the Sorting Hat to place me there. It told me I was suited for Slytherin even then, but it was not permitted to Sort me there. Now, I am the Heir of Slytherin, and not even Albus Dumbledore will keep me away from my birthright.” He quirked a smile. “We shall see a great deal of each other, Severus.”

“Indeed we shall. Are you not worried someone will remember your eyes? I trust they were not the ‘strange eyes’ you showed Albus.”

“No, I am changing them permanently tonight,” a wave of Hadrian’s hand changed his eyes once more. “This is what I chose, based on my both my mother and father. I will permanently change the shape of this particular scar. I can’t remove it because it was placed with a Dark curse.” He traced the lightning bolt mark. Changing topics suddenly, he asked, “Did the esteemed and thwarted Headmaster say anything about my wand?”

“He did,” Severus chuckled, accepting the change without comment. “He was quite angry he couldn’t convince you to hand it over. It made me rather curious. Would you allow me to see it?”

Hadrian produced the object, just completed the previous night. He watched as Snape traced the smooth surface. It was bleached white, slightly twisted, and curved just off straight. He had left the head, where it would join the knee joint, on as a grip, but had smooth down the lateral malleolus to get the wand to taper at the tip.

“You made this yourself?” Hadrian nodded, proud of his work. “What is it made of?”

“Bone. Madame Vance’s fibula. I had been doing everything wandless since I killed off Harry Potter, but I need a wand for school. I mixed the core myself. It’s my blood, blood of the Dementor King, venom from Nagini, and the cloak from the child Dementor I killed to seal Draco’s runes.” The memory of that killing still touched him. “The child was sick. It was dying slowly. My killing was a mercy to it and its family. I chose to memorialize the child in my wand,” he explained quietly. He never like killing his charges.

“It is very impressive. It will not work for anyone but you,” said Severus, handing back the wand as the door opened and Voldemort entered the study.

“Is it finished?” he asked, seeing the wand.

“Yes, I finished it last night. Are you free to test it with me tonight, Father?” Hadrian remembered promising the Dark Lord the chance to watch.

“Of course I am, my son. Will we duel?” he grinned, clearly eager to test his double-casting against the power of the Bone Man’s wand.

“Not tonight. I have a better idea,” Hadrian promised his father.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Voldemort looked curiously at the street he had just appeared in. Two rows of tidy, identical houses lined it, each with lights burning in the windows. It was early evening, and the Muggle residents had not yet retired.

“This way,” his son pointed. Hadrian had again covered his scars and colored his eyes the green they once were. Like this, he still was still recognizable as Harry Potter. Excitement rolled through his mind, and the Dark Lord wondered what his son had planned.

They stopped outside one of the tidy houses he couldn’t tell apart. The number four was cast in brass and nailed to the door. Hadrian raised a fist to knock, but changed his mind and simply opened the door and strode through, his father following. Gesturing to be quiet, the boy pointed to the door to a cupboard under the stairs.

//My room, until I was eleven. He threw me in there for a week each summer after he cut my throat, waiting for me to die. I never felt like obliging him.//

Voldemort understood instantly why they were here. This was the Dursleys’ house, and Hadrian had come for revenge.

The family in question was in the sitting room, watching TV. The large, mustachioed man looked up as Hadrian entered the room.

“BOY! How dare you come back here?! We were rid of you and your freakishness!” he shouted, turning purple.

“Now, Vernon, is that any way to treat an important guest? I would say family, but I have found a new one. Look, I even brought my father to meet you!” he pointed to Voldemort. “Petunia, I’m sure you’ve heard of Lord Voldemort, yes?” The bony woman turned white.

“GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU MONSTERS!” the purple man shouted.

“Oh, but we’re having such a nice catching up!” Hadrian pouted. The Dark Lord chuckled at his son. “I haven’t even said anything to Dudley yet! Hello, Dudley, you’re looking as fat as always. Like father, like son, I suppose. Did you ever wonder what it felt like when you starved me, Vernon? _Sentio inedia!_[M1] ” The purple man grabbed his stomach. “’No food for a week!’ That was your favorite when I was young. No, no, Petunia, sit tight, you’ve a show to watch.”

Hadrian stuck the bony woman to a chair. He froze the fat boy as he tried to escape and bound him in the center of the room. He silence the purple man, who was still shouting abuse.

“Do be quiet, Vernon, we don’t want the neighbors to hear! Now, what shall we do with Diddy-Dinkums here? Ah, I know, and I don’t even need a wand for this. Do you remember how many little children you bullied, Dudley? How many you scared away from being my friend? Did you ever think how lonely I was, shut away in my cupboard by a family that hated me, no one to hear me cry? How cold my mind was, so empty and alone! Can you feel it now, Dudley? The pain of the child no one wants, who doesn’t know what he’s done wrong or why he can’t fix it. The child who only wanted to be loved.”

As his son spoke, Voldemort watched fat tears roll down the fat boys face. He guessed Hadrian was in the boy’s mind.

“Is it the same as what you did to Dolohov?” he asked.

“It’s worse,” Hadrian replied. “Dolohov felt only his own feelings from his time in Azkaban. Dudley here is getting all of mine. Ten years without friends, living in a cupboard. Ten years of Harry Hunting. Ten years of wishing I had died with my parents. Ten years of ‘Boy!’ and ‘Don’t ask questions!’ and ‘Go to your cupboard!’ and ‘No food for a week!’” Hadrian angrily wiped away his tears. “Ten years and five summers of being hated by my only family.”

“Not anymore,” Voldemort said, hugging his son. “You have so much more now. _That_ boy is dead, and _this_ boy is loved.”

“What are you talking about? Diddy’s an angel!” the bony woman argued. Hadrian laughed darkly.

“Yes, an angel the size of a baby whale. An angel that broke my bones for fun. An angel that held the knife for his father. A kind and loving child, isn’t he?”

“You were never hurt, you freak! Everything that happened and you never showed a mark!”

“Wrong, Petunia,” Hadrian said in a voice like ice, dropping his glamours. “Look at all the marks you made. I never heard of someone welcoming a child home by cutting their throat and leaving them to die. Once a summer, it became our little ritual, didn’t it? Do you remember how many times Vernon tried to carve about my heart? I’ve lost count myself.

“But the marks don’t matter now. I can show through them. Shall I show you my true self, the one you helped create?” Hadrian let his runes show through, bringing life to the Bone Man. “Isn’t it magnificent? I made it myself over the summers. I used to sneak off at night and go to Azkaban, you know. You recognize the place. I marked my first follower there. Now not even the great Albus Dumbledore can stop me.

“Now, Vernon, still not feeling well? I think it’s time for some blood, don’t you? Not mine, of course, Merlin knows I’ve spilt enough here. Yours will do nicely. _Sectumsempra!_ ” The Dark wizards watched as magic carved up the purple man’s fat body and he silently screamed. “As for you, ickle Diddykins, I’ll take payment for my broken bones now. _Discutio quisque osse!_[M2] ” Sharp cracks were heard as the fat boy’s bones shattered one by one. When the cracking ended, Hadrian cut his throat with a quick slice from his wand. He did the same to the purple man, who had become a pulpy mass on the floor.

“Oh, Petunia, I’ve made such a mess on your clean floor!” the boy cried in mock distress. “Don’t worry, you won’t see it for long. You know, you were supposed to be the one to take me in because of the love in your heart. It was supposed to protect me, but I suspect there isn’t any love in your heart. I think it’s too small. Shall we find out? _Remaneo conscia_[M3] .”

Voldemort watched in amazement as Hadrian conjured a knife and cut open the still-screaming woman’s chest, baring the beating heart to the air.

“What do you know? Big enough after all,” he whispered, reaching in and taking hold of the organ. A sharp wrench separated it from her body. He frowned at the heart and tossed it aside casually.

“I think the wand works,” he announced.

Voldemort placed his hands on the bloody teen’s shoulders and surveyed the distruction.

“Your mother will be so proud.”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

“I’m gonna miss you, dihiryn.”

Rabastan held his tired arwr to his chest. The next morning, Hadrian and Draco would go off the Hogwarts. That night had been Hadrian’s going-away party. For someone who had never been interested in a family, the Dark Lord was turning into quite the proud and doting father. It was a good thing only the Inner Circle and Hadrian’s marked followers had been there. Anyone else might have exploded from the shock of seeing the Dark Lord smile and laugh and hold his son.

“I’ll miss you too, arwr. Draco’s gonna have you all to himself. I hope you still remember me come Christmas!”

“I won’t. I’ll write to you this time. Anderung said he doesn’t mind carrying my letters, even if he is far superior to any post bird,” he chuckled.

“I still don’t think you’ll be safe there. Not with Dumbledore there.”

Hadrian groaned and buried his head in Rabastan’s chest.

“We’ve been over this. I’ll be _fine_. He knows I’m powerful but he doesn’t know how powerful, and there’s nothing to connect me to Harry Potter _or_ the Bone Man. Stop worrying!”

“I’ll stop worrying when you’re safe in my bed again,” Rabastan promised seriously, “and not a moment before.”

“You know, you’re wasting your last night with me for a while with all this worrying.”

“How true,” Rabastan agreed, pulling his arwr into a kiss.

*** ***

“Don’t do anything that would make your father angry. He may be all kind to you, but the rest of us certainly don’t want to test him,” Lucius warned.

“Don’t hound the boy, Lucius,” Narcissa scolded her husband, “he’s smarter than that. Just remember to be careful around Dumbledore.”

“Merlin, why does everyone keep telling me that,” groused Hadrian. He didn’t mind, though. Lucius and Narcissa had taken to him over the summer. They were the perfect Aunt and Uncle he had never had before.

“Because he’s a serious threat. Don’t get into trouble with him.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

“And work hard at your studies.” Hadrian rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Aunt Cissa.”

“You, too, Draco. Stay out of trouble.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Love, let the boys get on the train already!”

“Hush, Lucius.”

Hadrian laughed as his aunt and uncle gave him one last hug. Draco just rolled his eyes.

When they were finally on the train and in an empty compartment, Draco smiled at him.

“Ready for this?”

“Oh, yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sentio inedia - feel starvation  
> Discutio quisque osse - shatter every bone  
> Remaneo conscia -stay conscious


	2. The Gathering of the Dark

They weren’t alone in the compartment for very long. Just as the train started to move, a few of the other sixth-year Slytherins found them. Draco introduced them, playing the charade that Hadrian had never met them before.

Pansy Parkinson threw herself on Draco with a screech.

“Draco! I didn’t hear from you all summer! Did anything happen?! Are you alright?” She fired questions at him, hanging around his neck.

“Pansy, get off,” he mumbled, red in the face. “I’m fine, I was just really busy.”

“Were you with the Dark Lord? Did he Mark you?” Hadrian looked at the girl, eyes flashing. For a Slytherin, she really had no sense of secrecy or propriety.

“This is not the place to speak of such things,” he reminded them all coldly. She gave him a look like she had just noticed him there. “The walls can have ears, hold your tongue.”

“And who are you?!” Her voice grated on Hadrian’s nerves. He remembered her father’s mind from the general meetings. It was dull and shallow, concerned with appearances but nothing beneath. The girl seemed to be the same way, though Hadrian did not dare dip into any of the other students’ minds yet.

“Pansy,” Draco scolded. “This is Gallus Hadrian Riddle-Black, Lord Black. He’s new this year, he’s been living in Germany since the Dark Lord fell. Hadrian, Pansy Parkinson, Theo Nott, and Blaise Zabini.”

The Nott boy, Theo, must have heard something from his father about Lord Black, judging by the recognition in his eyes. The elder Nott was a member of the Inner Circle, though not one of Hadrian’s marked. Zabini, he remembered, was the son of a Grey family, neutral in the war politically, though supporting the Dark Lord privately. Hadrian nodded to them all. Only Parkinson didn’t immediately afford him some respect.

“Why is he with you?” she asked Draco, pointedly ignoring Hadrian. He interrupted before Draco could answer, meaning to have her respect and fear.

“Draco is my cousin through our mothers. Our fathers also know each other, though my father holds rather more power than Lord Malfoy,” he answered in a cool voice. She sneered at him.

“Well, I’ve never heard of you. Who is your father then?”

“The Dark Lord,” he stated casually. “My mother is Bellatrix Lestrange. If you doubt me, I can perform a blood spell, as I did for Dumbledore.” She shut her jaw with a snap, eyes wide.

“You told Dumbledore?” Theo asked incredulously.

“Of course. I will not hide who I am. Not my name, not my power, not my scars. And I have no intention of hiding behind my father’s robes, either. Dumbledore will learn that I am my own person, and not my father in miniature, flattering as that may be.”

The compartment fell silent at that. Hadrian could tell Parkinson had no intention of apologizing, but she wouldn’t be insulting him anymore. He reached out for Draco’s mind.

//Dragon, take Parkinson away. Shouldn’t you two be doing Prefect things anyway?//

“C’mon, Pansy. We have to go to the Prefects’ meeting. Hadrian, will you be alright?” The blond looked a little worried about leaving him.

“Go, Draco. I’m fine.” Really, when would they stop asking him that?

Draco kissed him quickly and ushered a gaping Parkinson out the door. Hadrian was left with the two quiet boys. Blaise buried himself in the latest issue of _Quidditch Quarterly_ , and Theo had pulled out his potions text and was looking over it, adding the occasional note. Hadrian stretched out his mind, laying a mental layer that was enough to tell him when people passed by their compartment, but too light for anyone who had not felt his mind before to notice.

~Is it safe for me now?~ Hissing came from Hadrian’s torso. Änderung was wrapped around him beneath his shirt.

~Yes, these people are safe,~ he answered. Blaise looked up at him but just shrugged unconcernedly, but Theo watched the black snake emerge with interest.

“You really are the Dark Lord’s son, aren’t you?” he asked rhetorically.

“I really am.”

“How did you get those scars?” he tried tentatively, curious but afraid.

“A knife,” Hadrian answered flatly.

“Did your parents…” Theo trailed off, worried his thought was correct and scared of angering his master’s son.

“No, they didn’t. I hadn’t seen my parents since I was one. After the Dark Lord fell, I was sent to live with other relatives. They did this.” He shrugged. “I killed them this summer.”

Theo’s eyes were huge, but he wisely returned to his book. Hadrian spent some time telling Änderung about the Slytherin dorms and the Chamber of Secrets. He planned to spend a great deal of his free time that year in Salazar’s private chambers, especially the library Voldemort had told him about. He was telling his familiar about the Basilisk and how beautiful is had been when he felt someone stop outside the compartment.

“Two people outside,” he warned the others. “Not Draco. Angry and…annoyed.” They both looked at him curiously, but nodded anyway. Focusing lightly on their minds, he recognized Ron and Hermione. Hadrian flicked his wand and opened the door just as the redhead was reaching for the handle.

“Is there something you need?” he asked in a cool voice. Unlike many Slytherins, Hadrian did not sneer. He regarded them as though they were so far beneath him they didn’t even deserve his disdain. They were simply unimportant, and he was untouchable by the likes of these Gryffindors.

Of course, his scars and mismatched eyes helped his image, as did the snake winding around his neck.

“Parkinson said there was a new transfer student in here,” sneer Ron. “I guess she forgot to mention he looked like a monster, too.”

Monster. The word echoed through his mind and the world outside fell silent. Hadrian could feel every stroke of the blade, carving the letters into his back. He could feel the rage and shame. He had killed the Dursleys already, but he could never cause them enough pain to pay them back for the name forever sealed into his skin. Monster.

Ron had barely finished speaking when Hadrian lunged forward, shoving his forearm across the redhead’s throat and slamming him against the wall. He swept his bone wand up and jammed it under the taller boy’s chin hard, forcing his head back. He could hear Hermione shriek and Theo drop his book, but none of that mattered. The only thing in his world was the flesh under his wand and the word still ringing in his ears.

Monster.

“I think you’ll find I’m every bit the monster you think I am. ‘He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster,’ and I stopped looking long ago. Maybe you should ask Parkinson for a little more information about me, before you decided to play welcoming committee,” he said in a low, deadly voice. He pushed out his magic and turned the air cold, cold enough to see his breath, just like he had learned from the Dementors. The redhead whimpered.

~Bone Man, do not kill the angry one,~ Änderung warned, hissing into his ear. ~The Dark Father would be displeased.~ Hadrian sighed.

~Yes, he would. Very well,~ he released Ron and raised the temperature again. Blaise rubbed the frost off the window. He backed toward Hermione, pulling her behind him and into the corridor.

“You’re mad!” he exclaimed. Hadrian cocked his head, tilting his chin to display the five parallel slices on his throat. Without moving, he wandlessly slammed the door in his face.

“Definitely the Dark Lord’s son,” Theo muttered.

Hadrian chuckled.

*** ***

Ron slammed the compartment door behind him, startling Ginny.

“Did you find him?” she asked eagerly.

“Yeah, he fucking attacked me!” her brother shouted. “Forget what Dumbledore said, that kid’s never gonna join the Light. He’ll be lucky to make it through the year. If he thinks I’m gonna lie down when he just shoved his wand in my throat…” he growled.

“Did you really have to say that, though? I’d be angry too, if some stranger told me I was hideous,” Hermione scolded. Ron rolled his eyes. Honestly, the guy was Dark. They didn’t deserve manners.

“What did he look like?” Ginny asked eagerly.

“Like a monster.”

“Ronald! He’s got really short black hair and scars all over his body, even his hands! Honestly, he looks like someone tried to kill him, more than once. He’s got two different eyes, too, one black and one white-blue. Maybe it was damaged when he got the scars? I wonder who did that, he’s only sixteen like us.”

“Probably his parents,” Ron said. “Dumbledore said they were Death Eaters, and they sent him off to Germany! Only Dark wizards would get rid of their own kid.” Ginny nodded.

“So Dumbledore’s plan is a bust?” she asked.

“Yeah, there’s no way we’re ever gonna get along. I say we try to get rid of him instead. That way he can’t help his Death Eater scum parents.”

“How will we do that?” Hermione asked. “You felt how powerful he is. I don’t think he’s likely to fall for just anything.”

So the three warriors of the Light plotted and schemed the death of Hadrian Riddle-Black as the train pulled into the Hogsmeade station.

*** ***

Severus surveyed that year’s crop of dunderheads. Even his Slytherins, with the exception of Draco, Theo, and Zabini, were only marginally less idiotic than the rest.

Though Hadrian was now part of the sixth year, replacing his old persona of Harry Potter. Severus could at least look forward to that.

The gaggle of quaking first years was Sorted, and the only one left was Hadrian. Minerva looked to where he stood in the shadow off to the side of the Great Hall, cold and aloof.

“Riddle-Black, Gallus Hadrian,” she called. The boy strode forward with poise and purpose, putting the most graceful dancer to shame. Again Severus wondered just how hard Potter had worked to hide himself under the Headmaster’s watchful eye.

Hadrian sat beneath the Hat for a moment. Once, he smirked, making Severus think he must have been a conversation with the Sorting Hat.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Of course. How could he be anywhere else, being the Heir of Slytherin. Even as Potter he had belonged in Severus’s House. The Snakes clapped heartily, though the younger years looked slightly wary of the scarred teen.

//The Sorting Hat was happy see me being myself for once. It’s proud of me now,// Hadrian whispered, amused, into the Potion Master’s mind. He nodded.

//As am I, Bone Man. Try not to scare the wits out of the first years.//

*** ***

The Slytherin common was just as Hadrian remembered it. The seventh year Prefect directed the sixth years to their rooms. After their OWLs, Slytherin students moved into double rooms. Hadrian and Draco were paired together. The two shared a bathroom with Theo and Blaise. With a smirk at his Dragon, Hadrian transfigured the two twin beds into a single king-sized four poster. Draco just smiled and flopped down, blowing flyaway blond hair out of his eyes.

Hadrian noticed a shimmer of magic on the far wall. As he watched, the shimmer became a tapestry of dark green: the Slytherin Family Tree. Reaching down from Salazar, silver thread picked out generations of Slytherins, all the way to his father. At the very bottom was his own name. He traced it gently.

Draco wrapped his arms around his waist from behind. Hadrian leaned back into his Dragon’s chest.

“What’s wrong?” Draco whispered, nuzzling behind Hadrian’s ear.

“Nothing is wrong at all,” he replied softly. “This is my family. The castle is showing me that this really is a home for me now.”

“Yes, you’re very special, you know.” Draco traced one of the scars with his lips, nipping at where the line ended at his jaw.

“Dragon…” Hadrian moaned. He turned to pull the blond into a harsh kiss, biting hard enough to draw blood and licking it away. Draco responded eagerly, tightening his hands at Hadrian’s hips.

“Drac- oh! Um…”

The two turned to see a blushing Theo Nott and smirking Blaise Zabini entering through the shared bathroom.

“Um…we just wanted to see if your room was different…”

Hadrian laughed, a warm sound. He walked to Theo and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“See something interesting?” Theo blushed harder. His eyes flicked to Draco, who smirked at him.

Oh, Hadrian would enjoy toying with this one.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Ron, Hermione and Ginny were gathered in the Gryffindor common room. School had been in session for a week, and they had been taking every opportunity to watch Black, searching for weaknesses.

“What do we know about him?” Ron asked. “He’s a git, and he’s got a lot of scars. Honestly, they can’t all be real, it’s too hard to scar with magic Healing.”

“Maybe he didn’t go to a Healer,” Hermione answered. “Muggles get scars easily. Or the wounds might have been cursed. Remember Harry’s scar?”

“Of course I remember Harry’s scar. It was the only reason we put up with him!” Ron was still frustrated and angry over Harry’s death. They were supposed to get a lot of benefits from deal with the boy, and then up and dies and no one knew why or how! “Bloody hell, it wasn’t easy either, was it? Always whinging about not really being a hero and not wanting to fight in the war. No wonder Dumbledore faked that prophecy, he wouldn’t have fought otherwise!”

“Ron, don’t get off topic,” Ginny frowned at her brother. “What else do we know about Black?”

“He’s a genius,” Hermione added. “He’s taken most of his NEWT-level tests already, that’s why he doesn’t have many classes, and he’s got qualifications in subjects Hogwarts doesn’t even offer. He’s working on a project with Professor Vector on Medieval Runes and ritual magic. I heard them talking about it.”

“Well he’s got to have one bloody weak point! Does he have a girlfriend?”

“Honestly, Ron, don’t you ever notice anything?” Ginny replied scathingly. “Black doesn’t have a girlfriend any more than I do. He’s with Malfoy.”

“How do you know that?!”

“You’d know it too if you ever showed up to Quidditch practice on time. He and Malfoy are always playing Seekers’ Games before we get there. Black’s even better than Harry on a broom.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re together,” Ron pointed out.

“It does when he kisses Malfoy to distract him. Maybe I should try that in the next match,” Ginny trailed off thoughtfully. Ron turned red.

“You are not kissing that bloody ferret!” he shouted. Hermione giggled.

“Relax, Ron, I’m just kidding,” his sister soothed, though should would be the first to admit that Malfoy was fit. Black would probably rip her apart in an instant, what with him even calling himself a monster.

“So what can we do about Black?” Hermione asked, annoyed with all the distractions.

“We can’t go after him directly, he’s too strong for that, but we can use Malfoy against him,” Ron answered. “I say we get ahold of the ferret and give him a message to pass on to his ugly little boyfriend.”

*** ***

Draco was on his way back to the dorms from the library. He had been studying Arithmancy with Theo, but the tall boy had gone down to the kitchens. The blond was going to meet up with Hadrian. The Bone Man was planning to show him the Chamber of Secrets, where they were planning on meeting their fathers in secret. The older wizards were rightfully worried about how a school without Harry Potter would treat Slytherins.

The students had stepped up the minor attacks against the Snakes. Most of the students were convinced that Death Eaters had killed Potter. A lot of the younger Slytherins had found themselves in the Hospital Wing due to jinxes and hexes, and Draco himself had dealt with a number of young Gryffindors caught in the middle of attacking his Snakes.

As Draco turned a corner, he was suddenly struck in the temple and thrown into the far wall. The last thing he saw before the blackness took him was a flash of ginger.

*** ***

Hadrian was impatiently waiting for Draco to get back from the library. He was excited to show his Dragon Salazar’s Chamber, and to see his father again. He had planned with the Dementor King to sneak Lucius and the Dark Lord through the Hogwarts wards and into the Chamber so they could all meet in secret.

Änderung wrapped around his arm as Hadrian sat on the couch.

~Perhaps Father will bring Nagini with him,~ he hissed to his familiar.

~I do not need to see my mother,~ the black snake replied, turning empty, white eyes on him. Hadrian chuckled. He knew Änderung missed his mother, though he acted independent so as not to show it.

Suddenly, Hadrian felt a burning spread upward from the base of his spine. A feeling of danger swept over him. It only took him a second to remember the alarm ward he had put in Draco’s runes and to connect the burning sensation with that. He wrapped Änderung more securely around his neck and headed purposefully toward the door, drawing his wand on the way.

~Whoever has hurt my Dragon will feel the wrath of the Bone Man,~ he promised the snake.

Focusing on the tracking spell he followed the pull on his runes down into the bowels of the dungeons, far away from the Slytherin dorms, to a locked door in a shadowed corner. With a burst of power he shattered the locking spells and wards on it. A second burst shattered the door itself.

His mind located Draco’s quickly. His Dragon was in pain.

“And just what the hell is going on in here?”

*** ***

Draco opened his eyes slowly. Faint torchlight showed dark stone walls, and the air felt cool and damp. Dungeons, then. Probably an old, unused classroom. The stone floor was cold and gritty on his skin.

All his skin.

Whoever his attackers were, they had stripped him naked. They had also bound his hands behind his back and left him face down on the floor. He was essentially helpless.

“Finally awake, Ferret?”

“Weasel,” Draco spat, shifting to face the voice. “What do you want?” The redhead walked toward him, drawing his wand.

“We just want you to give your monster of a boyfriend a little message from us.”

“You’re more stupid than I thought if you think you’ll get away with this,” he warned.

“This room is warded and hidden. Scarface has no chance of finding you,” Weasel informed him. Draco smirked.

“If you think some little spell the Mudblood found in the library will keep Hadrian out then you’re sorely mistaken. Do you want revenge for your little Savior’s death, then? Are you sad now you can’t hide behind Potter and tell him to save the world anymore? I hate to admit it, but I’m not actually the one that killed him.”

“Shut up!” A cutting hex hit Draco across his side, flaying open the skin over his ribs. “It’s your kind that killed him.” Another cutting hex, on his back this time. “Think Black’ll still want you when you’re not pretty anymore? When you’re as scarred as he is?” Another cutting hex, followed by a strong stinging hex to the face. Draco grunted, causing Weasel to laugh. A few more cuts crisscrossed his chest, then the redhead rolled him over on his back roughly.

“This really isn’t going to help your case when he comes, you know.” Draco kept his voice steady as he spoke, not wanting to give Weasel any satisfaction, but the Gryffindor just laughed harder and sent a _reducto_ at him. Draco could hear a wet crack and felt the sharp pain of his arm breaking.

“Nice, but I think you could use some more color.” A foot collided, hard, with his ribs. Draco let out a gasp of pain, which got him a few more kicks to the ribs. “Now, you just remember to warn Black about siding with you people. His Death Eater scum parents don’t deserve kids, and neither do yours, but I can’t really exterminate you in school. You tell him to keep his wand to himself next time I see him. He’s got no chance against us.” Draco coughed and spat blood on the Weasel’s shoes.

“If you knew his father’s name, you’d piss yourself,” he croaked. “I may be like my father, but Hadrian’s even worse than his sometimes.”

One of the Weasel’s shoes kicked him in the ribs again, hard enough to break one of the bones. The other pressed into his throat. Draco coughed and choked, trying weakly to curl up and shield himself.

“You little _fucker_!” Weasel hissed. A cutting hex hit Draco in the face and slashed open is cheek. “I ought to just kill you right here, Dumbledore be damned.”

“And just what the hell is going on in here?”

Draco had been focusing on the wand to his temple and hadn’t heard the door shatter. He blinked blood out of his eyes. Hadrian stood framed in the doorway in all his vengeful glory, his eyes fixed on the two in front of him. The air in the room grew intensely cold. His dark eye had turned blood red, just like the Dark Lord’s eyes. He looked like a god of destruction and darkness, and Draco had never been so happy to see him.

With a flick of his wand, the Weasel was tossed into the far wall and slumped to the floor. Hadrian released Draco’s bonds and conjured a blanket. Slipping his wand into his sleeve, he crouched and helped Draco sit up, wrapping the blond up.

“Tell my father what happened,” he whispered to his snake, not even bothering with parseltongue as he gingerly checked Draco’s broken arm. “Second floor bathroom, parseltongue password.” The snake changed into a raven and took off. The Weasel groaned in the background.

“How the hell did you get in here?!”

“I protect my own,” Hadrian said in a voice as hard and cold as cut stone. “Give me back his wand now, and I might go easy on you.”

“No way in hell!”

Hadrian stalked toward the redhead. Weasley shot a stunner at him, but the Bone Man knocked it aside with a twitch of a finger. The room grew cold enough for Draco to see his breath. He shivered and clutched the blanket tighter. Weasel wrapped his arms around himself and whimpered, shaking.

“You’ve made a terrible mistake. Where is his wand?”

*** ***

Ron stared over his shoulder defiantly, lips clamped together. Hadrian pulled the teen’s head back by his hair. He forced the teen to look into his mismatched eyes and dove into his mind, making the entry as painful as possible.

Once inside Ron’s mind, he pulled the redhead’s consciousness into his own mindscape. The Dementors dragged the boy away, locking him in one of the empty cells in Hadrian’s mind. With Ron’s memories now left unguarded, Hadrian searched for the events of earlier that day.

_Ron waited just around a corner on the way to the Slytherin dorms, of hitting Draco with a Reductor curse and stunning him. Ron searched through the blond’s pockets and tossed his wand to Hermione.-_

_“I’ll meet you after in the Room of Requirement,” he said. Hermione nodded and left, along with Ginny._

Hadrian had the Dementors free Ron’s consciousness from his mindscape and throw him back into his own. He released the teen’s mind and stepped back.

“I’d love to pay you back for every drop of Draco’s blood you spilt, and then some, but I’m afraid I just don’t have the time,” he said. By his request to the castle, the wall behind Ron sprouted stone shackles around the teen’s wrists. “I think I’ll just leave you in here. Let’s see if your Mudblood girlfriend has done enough reading to deal with my wards.”

Hadrian conjured a pair of trousers for Draco and led him from the room. Outside he repaired the shattered door and locked it, warding it with a few ancient wards unlikely to be known to anyone but the Headmaster, plus a few handy spells in parseltongue.

“Can you walk on your own?” Draco nodded. “Go to Severus’s rooms, then,” he instructed his Dragon, kissing him lightly on the forehead and wiping away the blood. “Father will most likely take Lucius there when he hears. I’ll be down when I get your wand back.” He smirked coldly. “There’s a room I _require_ on the seventh floor.”

He watched his Dragon head off carefully down the hallway, then asked the castle for a direct route. Since becoming the Heir of Slytherin, he had noticed he could speak with the castle mentally, almost the same way he spoke with the Dementors. Hogwarts was alive and sentient, but she only spoke with Founders’ Heirs.

The passage Hogwarts gave him let him out next to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls ballet. The door to the Room of Requirement appeared instantly. Hogwarts locked no doors against him. He threw it open, letting it crash against the wall. With a movement too fast to follow, he had Hermione against the back of her chair, wand against her throat.

“Give it to me,” he growled. Her brown eyes flickered over his shoulder to Ginny. Hadrian repelled the stunner Ginny sent with a thought, never moving his wand. He could see himself in Hermione’s eyes. His right eye had gone completely red like his fathers, but the blue eye remained unchanged.

Flicking his free hand behind him, he wandlessly disarmed Ginny, casting a Body-Bind Curse on her.

“Don’t think being two to one gives you an advantage. Dumbledore himself could be with you and you still wouldn’t have a chance of a fair battle. Now, give. Me. His. Wand.” Hadrian pressed the bone wand in harder under her jaw, forcing her head back. She whimpered and drew Draco’s hawthorn wand from her pocket. He snatched it and stepped back.

“Don’t think I will ever forget the damage you did to my Dragon. I protect what’s mine, and Draco Malfoy is most definitely _mine_.” He smirked. “Good luck getting your boyfriend out. You may want to suck up your pride for once and ask for help with the door.”

*** ***

Voldemort paced the entry hall of the Chamber of Secret. The boys were late. Hadrian and Draco were never late, especially not where their fathers were concerned. He was worried something might have happened to them. Everyone blamed the Dark side for the death of Harry Potter, perhaps someone had retaliated against them, perhaps they had been attacked, perhaps-

“Dark Father, do not worry. The Wizard-Lord will not allow his blood to be spilt,” the Dementor King told him. “The Headmaster could not best him. Petty students could not hope for a chance.”

Voldemort just nodded and continued pacing. He itched to curse something, but he could not curse the Dementor King and had no wish to do so to Lucius. The man was too important to the Dark.

“My Lord,” Lucius interrupted his worrying, “is that not Hadrian’s familiar?” He pointed to a raven with white eyes winging its way toward them.

~Änderung?~ he questioned.

~Dark Father, the Dragon was attacked. The Bone Man found him in the dungeons,~ the changling familiar informed him. Voldemort growled. The raven settled on his shoulder, shifting back into a snake.

“Come, Lucius,” he ordered, striding towards the exit.

“Where, my Lord?”

“Draco was attacked. They will most likely go to Severus.” Lucius nodded and hurried to catch up. The Dark Lord cast Disillusionment Charms on them both.

“I shall stay, Dark Father. I will be too…conspicuous in the hallways.” Voldemort gave no sign he heard the King, intent on finding his son.

Reaching Severus’s rooms, he dropped the charms. Lucius rushed to his son, who was having a broken arm and number of cuts and bruises tended to by the Potions Master.

“Where is he?” he demanded.

“He went to the Room of Requirement to get my wand back, my Lord,” Draco told him in a shaky voice. Everyone in the room edged away from the waves of power coming from the Dark Lord.

“What happened, Draco?” Lucius asked. “Who did this?”

“Weasley and his little gang wanted to get to Hadrian. I guess they decided he was too strong for them, so they waited for me in one of the hallways and stunned me. I woke up naked and bound in one of the dungeons. Weasel started using cutting hexes and kicked me a few times. He broke my arm and said it was a warning for Hadrian from the Light. Then Hadrian blasted the door in. He ripped into Weasel’s mind and bound him to the wall there. He told me to come here, that he’d meet me when he had my wand back.”

Voldemort growled and began pacing again.

“How did he find you?” asked Severus curiously.

“My runes,” Draco said quietly. “He put tracking spells and an alarm ward in my personal mark, in case something like this happened and because I’m his second-in-command.”

Hadrian opened the door, holding up Draco’s wand and tossing it to him. Draco snatched it in his good hand with a Seeker’s reflexes.

“Granger had it. I guess she and Ginny thought having two against one might make it fair. I informed them how wrong they were,” he said casually. The Dark Lord grabbed him and engulfed him in a hug. “Did I worry you, Father?”

“Don’t be late again,” Voldemort scolded, still holding his son.

~The Dark Father was pacing a hole into the Chamber floor,~ the snake informed him. Hadrian chuckled.

“I’m fine. They won’t go after Draco again either. They’ve learned that lesson, I was nice to them. I won’t be next time. I protect my own.” Voldemort chuckled at how much the boy sounded like him.

“Remember you have limits in school. No letting the Bone Man out or taking souls or anything,” he reminded.

“Aw,” Hadrian pouted, making both Malfoys laugh. Severus finished treating Draco and conjured the rest of his clothes. “Now, I was going to show Draco here the Chamber of Secrets. Let’s go back there.” He gestured to a passageway that formed in the previously solid wall of Severus’s room. Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

“How did you do that?”

“Founder’s Heir.” Hadrian frowned. “Can’t you speak to Hogwarts? It’s your blood, after all.” Voldemort shook his head and Hadrian’s frown turned into a scowl. “Dumbledore,” he spat. “I’ll tell you in the Chamber,” he responded to his father’s raised eyebrow, leading him and the two Malfoys into the passage.

*** ***

Once in the Chamber, Hadrian allowed his father to lead them all to Salazar’s private sitting room. The King was waiting there for them. Draco and Lucius settled on a couch immediately, leaving Hadrian and the Dark Lord to the two green armchairs facing each other on the far side of the dark wood-paneled room. Voldemort gave him an expectant look.

//This conversation would be best carried on in private,// he explained to his father.

//Understood. What did you mean about speaking to Hogwarts and Founders’ blood?//

//Hogwarts has always had a special relationship with students with Founders’ blood, but especially the Heirs. The Potters had Gryffindor’s blood, so the castle has always liked me. She was very happy for me when I renounced the Potters and the Light and became Slytherin’s Heir. She’s been worried about me and dear old Dumbles’s plans for me.//

//Why haven’t I ever been able to speak to Hogwarts then? I am an Heir of Slytherin as well.//

//You should rightfully be Lord Slytherin, but that’s something to discuss with Lucius and the goblins. Dumbledore is the reason, I think. He visited you before you came to school, right?// Hadrian received a nod. //I think he found out about your blood then. He probably bound the power in it in some way, same as he did mine. I think he was scared of what you could do with all that power. No offense, but you were one dark little boy,// Hadrian grinned, then frowned. //If you still can’t hear her, then that means the blocks are still there.//

// _What_ blocks?// Voldemort asked indignantly. //There are no blocks or binds on my power. I am at my full strength!// Hadrian chuckled at his outrage. It was nice to know something his father didn’t for once.

//Not on your power, on your blood. They would keep you from using any particular skills in your family magic. You must have fractured them a little to get the Parseltongue through, or maybe he just didn’t block that since you knew about it already. Do you want me to help you remove them? I had the Dementors’ help getting rid of mine.//

Voldemort was pensive for a moment. Hadrian could feel him weighing the need for help against the need to get rid of the blocks as soon as possible. Outrage and hatred for Dumbledore was pouring from his mind in waves. Eventually he nodded again.

//Ok. We’ll need to start out in my mind. I’m going to pull you into my mindscape now ok? Don’t fight it, Father, just let go.// As he spoke, Hadrian could feel the Dark Lord relax and move with the pull. With a gentle tug, Hadrian freed his father entirely and helped him stay steady as he landed in Hadrian’s mindscape. Voldemort straightened up and looked around with wide eyes.

*** ***

“Azkaban?” Voldemort asked, amazed. “And you said _I_ was a dark little boy.” He turned his head to watch as a pair of Dementor guards drifted past. “How are they in  
here?”

“They’re my charges,” Hadrian shrugged. “I can protect them in here. Every Dementor I have to kill, I take out its…consciousness, I guess, kind of its soul, and keep them in here. They’re all happy and safe in here.”

“My Wizard!” A tiny Dementor rushed toward him and hugged him around the middle. Hadrian laughed and held the little creature up to his face.

 “Hello, Tiny One! Have you missed my attention, my wee Souleater?” He tossed it up into the air gently, like a parent might play with an infant child, making it laugh. Voldemort reflected that he had not known Dementors could even feel happiness, much less laugh. Hadrian was very much a father, brother, protector and friend to the whole race.

“This child was born sick. He couldn’t feed, so he was dying of starvation. It was slow and painful, and there was nothing I could do to help, so I killed him quickly and used his death to seal Draco’s runes. We have a special bond now, since his cloak is in my wand,” the Wizard-Lord explained, shifting the little creature to his hip. He looked perfectly at ease, like an experienced father hold his son.

Did that make Voldemort a grandfather? The Dark Lord shook away the thoughts, focusing on the blocks they were supposed to be removing.

“What are we supposed to be doing in here? The blocks are on my blood, not yours,” he reminded his son. Hadrian hummed and headed off along the corridor, gesturing for him to follow. Dementors bowed to him as he approached, and he touched them all gently on the head or hand as he passed.

“Nine, eleven, thirteen,” he counted off. “Cell 13D, home to all of Dumbledore’s manipulations. I figure if you get a look at how he bound my family magic, you can find the block on yours. Your block will be more powerful, though. When he blocked mine, I was only a Scion of Gryffindor. You were already Heir of Slytherin.” He paused, looking a bit nervous. “There’s also something in there you probably want to see: the real prophecy.”

Voldemort was floored. The prophecy he had heard and acted on was a fake? That was the whole reason he had tried to kill Harry Potter, the reason he had spent thirteen years as a bodiless spirit, the reason Harry Potter had been sent to live with magic-hating Muggles.

“Yes,” he choked out, “I want to see it.”

Hadrian nodded. Putting down the tiny Dementor, he laid a hand on the cell door. It swung open at his touch. Inside, in the center of the little stone room, standing on the dirty straw, was a goat with a silver beard and blue eyes. Voldemort raised an eyebrow at his son.

“Albus Dumbledore, the old goat. It speaks in his voice. It’s how I store all his words. Everything else is on the shelves,” he pointed out the rows of shelves along the walls. Sitting alone on the back was a silvery orb, exactly like those in the Hall of Prophecy. Hadrian took it down and held it as it began to play.

_The time of the Wizard-Lord comes…his life forged in lies, he will be tempered in the truth and find true strength in new blood…his Darkness shall be a beacon to man and creature…he will return magic to the time before Merlin…beware the Light and self-righteous, for the time of the Wizard-Lord comes…_

“’True strength in new blood,’” Voldemort mused, “that refers to the blood adoption Bella and I did, doesn’t it? But ‘the time before Merlin’? What does that mean?”

“A time when there was no Light or Dark, only power and those too weak to seek it,” Hadrian smirked, parroting what Voldemort had said in his first year. “Merlin was powerful, but he was also the one who first started condemning Dark magic. I want to get rid of the restrictions and return to a time of pure magic. Dark magic isn’t more evil than Light, just more powerful and with more risk,” he explained. “It’s a bit self-fulfilling, since Dumbles had to hear it and decide to manipulate me so I could find my nature, though I suspect that even if he hadn’t gone so far, he still would have lied to keep me from reaching my destiny.”

Voldemort nodded, thoughtful. Albus had create a whole new prophecy, one that would keep Harry Potter Light and use him to fulfil Albus’s personal goal of killing Lord Voldemort. The old codger had created a prophecy that was truly self-fulfilling and made sure Severus only heard and reported part of it to him, just so he would charge off to kill the Potters! He wanted to wrap his pale hands around the old man’s throat and just _squeeze_. Instead, he took a deep breath and pushed the thoughts out of his mind.

“Show me about the blocks.”

*** ***

Hadrian sat opposite his father, studying the man’s face as he struggled with the blocks on him. He still had the white, snake-like features he had been reborn with, but Hadrian didn’t mind. They suited his role as the Dark Lord and gave him an air of untouchability and _otherness_. His pale, skeletal looks set off his eyes, the color of blood and lit with power and ruthlessness.

“Did the Dark Father enjoy his time in your mind?” the King questioned. The Malfoys were sitting quietly, watching their Lord engrossed in his mindscape. Hadrian chuckled, and they looked at him instead.

“He was...impressed. Azkaban is not usually the place anyone would think of as a place of their innermost comfort and safety. I might even go so far as to say he was amazed by my charges.” He looked over at the King and grinned. “He met the Tiny One. I think the child’s laugh surprised him.” The King chuckled darkly.

“He should learn the Souleaters are not all we appear on the surface,” he said. “How is Hadrian Riddle-Black adjusting to Hogwarts?”

Hadrian scowled. He hated being stared at, but there was really no way to avoid it. Even if he had been a normal-looking guy, they still would have stared. Using his scars as his disguise only drew more attention, though there was a silver lining. No one asked him any questions. Possibly they were all afraid of him, the Dark new Slytherin who survived vicious battles, judging by his wounds, or possibly they were just showing they possessed some tact. Neither one stopped the staring, or the fact that the Gryffindors all sneered at him when they passed.

“It…could be better, Great Royal. The Snake Pit is truly the safest place for me. Slytherins accept me because of my blood, and I can back up my breeding with manners and knowledge. Everyone else seems to think I personally killed Harry Potter.” He chuckled dryly. “I wish I could tell them they’re right. Their faces would be priceless!” The King laughed.

“They shall all know someday,” he promised. “For now, be careful you do not allow your guard to slip. What happened to your Dragon is only a warning of what they wish to do to you.”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

They day of the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class was upon them, and Draco was worried. The Ministry, still believing the Dark Lord had not returned, had insisted on appointing a teacher, but Dumbledore had managed to delay them and get one of his own appointed, though it was several weeks into term: Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt. Rumor said he was one of the best at recognizing Dark wizards, hence Draco’s worry. Shacklebolt also knew Harry Potter before he ‘died,’ and was the one who found Emmeline Vance after the Bone Man had had done with her. Draco wondered if, with enough time, he might not recognize Potter and/or the Bone Man in Hadrian.

Hadrian, however, wasn’t worried at all. He assured Draco that Kingsley had hardly ever seen him, and he’d been very careful about evidence with Vance. Wandless magic is near-impossible to trace, after all, and besides, wasn’t he the most powerful wizard the world had ever seen? Draco had rolled his eyes at the scarred teen’s cockiness, but he had to agree.

Still, he didn’t feel so reassured now that the door was opening and Shacklebolt ushering them in. He followed Hadrian to a table in the back corner.

//Really, Dragon, relax,// the Bone Man whispered. //McGonagall knew me much longer, and she hasn’t got a clue. It’ll all be fine.//

At the front, Shacklebolt swept his eyes across the room. He gave a fleeting smile to Granger and Weasley, studied Theo for a moment, then stopped at Draco and Hadrian, who gave him a cold, disinterested look in return.

“Alright, settle down,” the dark-skinned man called the class to order. “Yes, yes, welcome and all that. My name is Auror Shacklebolt, I’ll be teaching this class for the year. Now, I know you all took your OWLs last year - and clearly passed, since you’re in this class - but that doesn’t tell me much about what each of you personally know and can do. So, we’ll be starting off this year by dueling. That way, I can get a good idea of your practical skills. I’ve chosen your partners for you,” he held up a hand to cut off the general groan, “and no, you will not duel with someone from the same house.” A much louder groan met his words.

Draco could feel the excitement coming from Hadrian as the Auror read off the pairs. Theo with Weasley, Blaise with Lavender Brown, Draco with Dean Thomas, and Hadrian with Granger. Then teen was practically vibrating with energy, so eager was he to humiliate the Mudblood in public. Draco clamped a hand on his leg to keep him in his seat.

The duels would take place one-by-one so Shacklebolt could focus on each. Blaise and Brown went first, Blaise winning easily with a few nonverbal jinxes and a disarming spell. Pansy was roundly beaten by the Patil girl, but Daphne Greengrass earned a narrow win against Finnigan. Then came Theo and Weasley.

Draco could see the hard expression on Theo’s face. He and Hadrian had told the tall boy about the ‘message’ the Weasel had tried to send Hadrian, and he wanted in on their revenge. They, and the Dark Lord, were debating informing him of their plans.

Theo gave a very stiff bow to start off the duel and sent off a Reductor Curse. Weasley dodged and retaliated with a Jelly-Legs Jinx, which Theo tossed aside.

*** ***

Hadrian snorted, watching Ron’s childish spells.

//Honestly,// he told Draco, //I spent all that time last year teaching them useful spells, and he uses a pranking jinx as his go-to spell.// Draco put a hand over his mouth to smother his laughter.

Theo, on the other hand, was using real curses. They weren’t Dark, he was too careful for that, but he was aiming to hurt Weasley. Eventually, a strong Blasting Hex shattered Ron’s shield. A second quickly followed, breaking Ron’s wand arm. Theo summoned his wand, handed it to Shacklebolt, and bowed. He walked back to his seat, ignoring the yelling from Ron, Seamus and Dean. Shacklebolt sent Seamus off with Ron to the hospital wing.

Hadrian decided to trust Theo. Nott, Sr. was part of the Inner Circle, after all. His son would make a loyal, intelligent follower. He reached out to the tall boy’s mind and wrapped it in his own, ignoring his momentary alarm and Occlumency shields.

//Excellent job, Theo,// he said softly. Draco, who could also hear his words, looked at Theo and grinned, jerking his head towards the Bone Man. //Join Dragon and I tonight at midnight. We have much to tell you.// Still wide-eyed, Theo nodded jerkily.

It was then Draco’s turn to duel. He faced off with the tall, dark-skinned Dean Thomas, who Hadrian remembered as a decent duelist from the DA the last year. At least, he knew better than to think he could win with a Jelly-Legs Jinx. He returned Draco’s hexes spell for spell. As the duel dragged on, Draco turned to more creative means. He conjured several little birds, directing them into his opponent’s face. While Dean dealt with the birds, Draco stuck his shoes to the floor with a Sticking Charm and disarmed him. The Slytherins clapped as the blond gave a little bow and a smirk to the audience. He returned to his seat, passing Hadrian as he headed to the front.

//Shall I make her bleed for you, Dragon?// he asked. Draco grinned.

//Remember to leave her alive,// he replied.

Hadrian bowed to Hermione, holding his wand loosely in a grip copied from his father. He was pleased to get a chance to show off against the girl everyone thought was the best in the class now that Harry Potter was gone. Kingsley had paired him with her to test him, so he let her fire off the first spell.

“ _Bombarda!_ ” Hadrian wordlessly created a reflecting shield, forcing her to defend against her own spell.

“ _Confringo!_ ” she tried again. Hadrian flick it aside and rolled his eyes.

“Honestly, I could beat you in my sleep, Granger. Don’t you have any creativity?” He flicked aside to Disarming Hex she sent while he spoke. “Are you ready to duel now, or are you still throwing pebbles like a child? _Reducto_.” He shattered her shield with the muttered spell. “ _Diffindo_.” A shallow cut appeared on her cheek, causing outrage in the Gryffidors. “First blood to me. Ready to try again?”

“ _Entomorphis!_ ” He flicked it aside this year and laughed.

“Very good! You shouldn’t be so straightforward all the time. _Flipendo._ ” Hermione skidded backwards. “Shall we duel for real now? The world out there isn’t all Jelly-Legs Jinxes and Shield Charms. _Defodio_.” Putting a small amount of power in the spell, he created another gash in her left arm. He didn’t want to go for her wand arm yet. She screamed.

“ _Diffindo! Expulso!_ ” He knocked her Cutting Hex aside and let her blast his wand away. Before Shacklebolt could stop the duel, he snapped out a spell wandlessly.

“ _Immobulus!_ ” She froze. “ _Carpe retractum_.” He pulled her toward him with his spell and wordlessly summoned his bone wand back to him. He pulled his wand out of her frozen hand and tapped her on the nose with the handle. “Never count anyone out until you’re sure they’re done. Wandless magic is always such a surprise, isn’t it, my dear?” He tossed her wand to Shacklebolt and stepped away. “ _Finite_.”

“Yes, well, that was quite…enlightening. Mr. Black is right, not all duels are stopped by disarming someone, and you should always watch out for wandless magic…though not everyone will be up to Mr. Black’s caliber. Most witches and wizards can summon their wand back is they desperately need it.” Shacklebolt wrapped up the class, ushering a scowling Hermione to her seat. He assigned them all two chapters of reading and a foot-long essay on the duel between Dumbledore and the Dark wizard Grindlewald.

*** ***

“I can’t believe that bastard Nott broke my arm!” Ron growled. Hermione agreed. She hadn’t thought the Slytherins would be so bloodthirsty or so good. After class had ended she had gone to the hospital wing to visit Ron and have her injuries healed my Madam Pomfrey. “What happened with Black?”

“He was out for blood, but it wasn’t…normal,” she shuddered, remembering the look of crazed amusement in his eyes as he called first blood. “It was like he knew I was so out-classed, and he was…teaching me.” It was almost familiar in a way, the way he taught and the words he said.

Ron was talking, ranting about Nott and his arm, but she tuned him out. She thought back over everything Black had said and done. ‘The world out there isn’t all Jelly-Legs Jinxes and Shield Charms…never count anyone out…’

She gasped as she realized what Black had reminded her of.

“Harry!”

“Did he confound you? I’m Ron,” the redhead said, confused.

“No, he sounded like Harry! What he said, it sounded like the speeches Harry gave about real-life dueling in the DA last year!” She thought a moment longer and gasped again. “Ron, what if he is Harry? What if Harry didn’t die, he just disappeared? Became Lord Black instead?”

“Then why the fuck is he Dark?” Ron snarled. “Honestly Hermione, it’s a good thing Harry’s gone. Always prancing around, pretending he was better than us at Defense, playing poor pitiful me, my parents are dead.” He snorted. “Good riddance. If he’s dead then Voldemort can die too. He isn’t back, Hermione. Don’t you think Dumbledore would know? You just don’t want to admit there’s someone else who could beat you.” Hermione was stung.

“Shut up, Ron, you just had your arse handed to you by Nott,” she hissed, “without using any Dark spells.” Ron flushed but wisely kept his mouth shut. “Besides, you weren’t there. You didn’t hear him. I’m going to tell Dumbledore what I think.” She turned on her heel and left, headed toward the Headmaster’s office.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

At midnight, after he was sure Blaise was asleep, Theo left for Hadrian and Draco’s room. Their room was lit by a fire, casting shadows on them that accentuated Hadrian’s scars. The two were laughing at some joke, and Hadrian was speaking to…a skull?

As he entered the room, Theo could feel that same warm presence steal across his mind that had spoken to him in class. He knew he should be frightened of something that wasn’t even challenged by his mental shields, but this presence felt safe and kind somehow.

//Good evening, Theo,// the presence spoke. //Do you know who I am?//

“Hadrian,” he whispered, “son of the Dark Lord.”

//Very good, but that’s not all. I have two names, which are known to your father, and past that still remains hidden to him. Do you wish to know who I am?//

“Yes,” Theo whispered. Hadrian waved a hand to lock and ward the doors. Theo almost hummed at the amount of power pouring off of him. He stood a few feet away from the taller boy. Draco lounged against the mantle, holding the skull.

//Tell me, Theodore Nott. Have you heard of the Bone Man?//

“Yes, Lord Black.” Theo thought the formal title was appropriate. He continued at Hadrian’s mental prompting. “The Bone Man is the Dark Lord’s ally, second only to him, but no one knows his name. He has command of the Dementor forces that follow the Dark Lord.”

//Partially true. He is the Dark Lord’s ally, but he is also his equal. Only the Inner Circle and his own marked followers know his name. He has command of all the Dementors, who regard him as greater than their king. Do you know why I tell you this?// Theo shook his head.

“No, Lord Black.”

//You are about to meet him. And his own second-in-command. Theodore Nott, are you prepared to meet the Bone Man?//

“I am,” Theo whispered. Hadrian smirked, snuffing the fire with a flick of his wrist. The room plunged into darkness.

Looking around, Theo spotted a pair of twin glows off to the side. A moment’s focused revealed them to be silver eyes, the same color as Draco’s. A few feet in front of him a Killing Curse green glow bloomed, resolving into a skull. Skeletal hands also made of tiny green runes moved to undo the buttons of a shirt, revealing ribs and a spine. In the corner Draco lit a single candle.

In the meager light of the candle, Theo could see that the skeleton of runes was Hadrian. Behind him, Draco pulled off his own shirt, revealing a set of silver runes around his upper arm. Hadrian opened his mouth and spoke with his voice and his mind.

**I am Gallus Hadrian Riddle-Black, son of the Dark Lord Voldemort and his greatest ally. Forged in lies, I have renounced my blood. I am the Bone Man and the Wizard-Lord. The races have foretold my coming, and I shall return magic to the time before Merlin.**

**I ask for you to join me, to fight on the side of power and the Dark. To reveal the lies of the Light. To return magic to the Ancient Time. Theodore Nott, will you serve me?**

“I- I will, Bone Man,” Theo choked out in a whisper, kneeling under the pressure from Hadrian’s power. “I will serve you.”

*** ***

Hadrian smiled gently and drew his power back in. He helped Theo up and into one of the chairs. Draco sat in the other, and Hadrian dropped down into his lap, throwing his legs over the side. Unlike his father, Hadrian felt no need to be formal around his particular followers.

“So, Theo,” he grinned, “welcome to my inner circle.” Draco chuckled.

“He’s not always so dramatic,” the blond promised, rubbing the back of his neck. Hadrian craned his head back and hummed at the touch.

“As one of my trusted followers, you get a few things. One is a personal mark, in addition to the Bone-Sign, which we’ll discuss later. The other is some very secret knowledge,” Hadrian trailed off. He still wasn’t comfortable telling people about his past, the abuse he had suffered at the hands of the Dursleys, the lies Dumbledore had told him.

“Hadrian, it’s ok,” Draco whispered, wrapping arms around his middle. “He’s not about to reject you now. He trusts you, he’ll follow you just like we all will.” Theo looked at them curiously but didn’t say anything. Hadrian took a deep breath and nodded.

“I know what happened to Harry Potter.” Theo’s eyes widened.

“How?”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve met me. I looked different at the time.” Hadrian let his magic flow out, covering his scar, turning his eyes green and revealing his lightning bolt curse mark. “Do you recognize me better this way?”

“Potter?” the taller boy gasped. Hadrian dropped the spells again.

“When I vanished from the train last year I went to Gringotts and claimed my titles. The goblins helped me combine the two titles, entailing the Potter title to the next Lord Black and naming Gallus Hadrian Black as my heir. Then they helped me declare Harry James Potter legally dead and become Hadrian Black. I finished creating the Bone Man and joined the Dark Lord as soon as I could.

“On my birthday I renounced my blood and went through a blood adoption. Legally and by blood, I am now the son of Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry Potter is dead.”

“And…and the scars?” He could feel curiosity and caution warring in Theo’s mind.

“All the scars are real. My…former relatives, the Muggles I lived with, weren’t exactly…fond of magic. My uncle tried to kill me at least once a summer since my eleventh birthday. He’s sliced open my throat, tried to cut out my heart, and attempted to bleed me dry. He carved his favorite name for me into my back and colored it with ash. I’ll never be free of that name.” Hadrian forced the last word out through a dry throat, “Monster.”

“That’s why you…when Weasley…” Theo mused, more to himself than Hadrian or Draco. “Did the old man ever know?”

“Judging by the number of times he invaded my mind before I mastered Occlumency, yes,” Hadrian replied bitterly. “Dumbles’s lies turned me into what I am. He put me there, year after year, knowing what they did. He hid my rightful title from me, and my destiny. All of those who lied to me and tried to use me as a weapon are filth that doesn’t deserve life,” he spat. “I killed the Muggles this summer. Mum was proud of me when she watched the memory.”

The room was silent for a few minutes. Hadrian focused on draining away his anger, focusing on the hand his Dragon was rubbing soothingly along his side. Theo was staring into space, unfocused, but Hadrian could feel how quickly his mind was working, reconciling the new information with old memories and opinions. He came to a conclusion and slid off his seat to kneel submissively in front of the Bone Man with his head down.

“Lord Black, please allow me to be your protector and your faithful servant. Allow me a place by your side, and I shall serve and follow you, no matter what may come. Mark me as your own, and I will take it willingly and with pride,” the tall boy promised in a steady voice. Hadrian placed a hand on his friend’s head.

“Theodore Nott, I accept you. You shall be my personal and faithful servant, and my friend, and a thorn in the side of my enemies, and I shall protect you as well. Look at me, Theodore,” he raised the teen’s face with a gentle hand under the chin. “Thank you,” he whispered. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the other’s lips.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Albus Dumbledore had summoned the Order. Without Grimmauld Place, they were forced to meet in his office at Hogwarts.

While he waited for the Order to assemble, he thought back over what the Granger girl had told him. She was stupid to believe Harry could be Hadrian Riddle-Black. Albus did not believe Harry was intelligent enough to have found out about his plans for the boy, much less create a new identity and run to the Dark side. Besides, Voldemort would never have adopted Potter. No, Black’s story checked out, even if no one had ever heard of him before, so he had dismissed the girl and her worries.

He had greater worries, after all. Voldemort was laying low, raids had stopped. The only evidence he was still around was the occasional slaughtered family of a muggleborn student, but he seemed very particular in his choices. In the meantime, his Death Eaters were worming their way into the Ministry and the Wizengamot. Lords Malfoy and Nott were gathering an impressive voting bloc of supporters. Not to mention the unpredictable nature of Lord Black, one of the very few to hold more than one seat. He could pull support of both Light and Dark members: Light with the Potter, a famously light family line, seat, and Dark with the Black, a notoriously Dark line, vote.

It also seemed, based on his actions over the summer and the few interactions the Headmaster had had with the boy, that Lord Black was not a Light supporter or a fan of the Order of the Phoenix. He could be dangerous. His appearance, coming from nowhere as he did, posed a threat to the status quo in the Wizengamot, but not nearly as much as his parentage did. Imagine, a Noble with two votes coming from Bellatrix Lestrange and Lord Voldemort!

Quite frankly, he needed to get rid of the boy.

Albus would need a few faithful supporters to help him. They couldn’t be too clever, or they might begin to question him, so that ruled out any of the Aurors. They were just too damn fair for their own good. He would have to rely on the students, the Weasleys and Granger, perhaps a few more Gryffindors.

His actions would have be something he could pass off as provoked. He needed Voldemort to start acting out again! Albus decided that if the Dark Lord was still lying low by Halloween he would have to anger him. The boy would be a perfect tool.

Headmaster Dumbledore popped a lemon drop in his mouth and began to scheme as he waited for the Order to arrive.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Hadrian was slouched on a sofa in the common room, back against Draco’s shoulder as he played a game of chess with seventh-year Adrian Pucey, facing Theo and absent-mindedly stroking his cheek over the arch of the zygomatic bone, just where his new runes were. Theo had chosen to arrange his like the rune þ, or “thorn,” and placed it on his left cheek, just beside and below his left eye. The two of them and Blaise were talking about the different runic alphabets. Actually, Blaise and Theo were asking questions and Hadrian was answering them.

“Hogwarts really limits students by only teaching Ancient Runes. The Elder Futhark alphabet is literal, and that really limits its inherent power. Most of the properties of things done with runic magic have to be created by the caster’s intention, not by the runes themselves, so the caster has to be very focused. That’s why runic magic is considered hard. But all the alphabets have their own power, and if you branch out to some of the Medieval runic alphabets, you can find more and looser meanings and interpretations, which make the spells stronger and less dependent on the caster’s intention and focus. Younger runes can even be used to spell out spells, like the Latin alphabet, rather than relying on a strict object meaning. I’ve never had a bad reaction from mixing runes of different ages or alphabets, since they all stem from the Elder Futhark.”

“We can’t all have specially tailored private tutoring from a half-mad hermit, you know,” Blaise teased. Hadrian knew he tended to ramble on about runic magic, since it was his favorite topic.

“No, but your typical Hogwarts education is very limited. The Ministry offers ten NEWTs and at least as many OWLs in topics you will never be taught about here in school. That’s why all students are allowed to take up to seven OWLs after self-study.” Hadrian wanted the all the students, not just his marked supporters, to open their eyes to the world around them. Wizarding Britain was blind to the progress and success of other societies. It was isolated, unlike the integrated communities of Europe, which was governed by a wizarding version of the European Union.

“Wow. I never considered that,” mused Pucey, looking up from his chess game. “Could I get take a self-study OWL this year?”

“Yep. There aren’t actually any age limits on OWLs or NEWTs. If you take an OWL in a subject one year and pass, you can take the NEWT in that subject at the end of the summer, if there is one.”

“Is there an OWL in Healing magics?” Pucey asked. Hadrian grinned. A Slytherin, a Grey wizard, and an aspiring Healer. He would need to get to know Pucey.

“There isn’t an OWL, but there is a NEWT. It’s one of those with prerequisites. You need to have passed your OWLs in Herbology, Potions and Charms with at least an E,” he told the older student, who smiled.

“Excellent, I’ve got those. Os in Herbology and Potions, an E in Charms. Can I just send a letter to the Ministry and request to take the NEWT?” the seventh-year asked, moving a chess piece.

“Of course. They might give you a private time slot during exam week,” Hadrian replied. “If you know any Healers personally, you might ask for some advice, or you can talk to Madam Pomfry about what might be on it, especially if there’s a practical.”

“Great! Thanks, Black,” Pucey grinned, then moved another chess piece. “Checkmate,” he announced, and everyone who had been listening in to their conversation laughed at Draco’s sputtering. Hadrian was glad to see so many people had been eavesdropping. Slytherins, with their ambition, would be pleased with the idea that they could get certifications in more subjects than just the school offered. That would open a lot of doors for them later on in life.

“Lord Black!” called a first-year coming in the door. “You have a letter!” Indeed, there was an owl perched happily atop the boy’s head, enjoying the ride. Hadrian chuckled, recognizing the odd bird as Fred and George Weasley’s.

“It seems I do. Thank you…Rowle, isn’t it? Jason Rowle?” The boy’s father was Thorfinn Rowle, a lower-rank Death Eater and good duelist, though reckless at times.

“Yes, Lord Black.” Rowle inclined his head in a brief bow when Hadrian relieved it of its avian burden before dashing off to his friends, third-year Alexander Dolohov and second-years Maria and Maxwell Gibbon, all children of Death Eaters.

Hadrian ripped open the letter, snickering as he read over it.

//The Fire Gemini want some entertainment at the end of the month,// he told Draco and Theo mentally. //They want me to ask my father to put together a little something.// He snorted. //So do the Elder Gemini; they added a post-script. Why does everyone think Father will allow death and destruction just because I ask?//

“Who’s it from?” Blaise asked, not privy to the Bone Man’s comments.

“Just a couple old friends. Real comedians, those two,” he replied vaguely. //New plan: we’re going to celebrate Samhain this year. I’m sick of dealing with the goat’s Muggle Halloween feast. We’ll have a bonfire for any student who still follows or is interested in the Old Ways. Maybe introduce the Bone Man to some of the loyal older ones.// Draco nodded absently, but Theo gave him an odd look. //Thorn, no worries. There’s no rules against it. It’ll be fun!//

*** ***

“Whatcha reading, Lord Black?” one of the younger Slytherins asked. Hadrian shot an upside-down grin at the boy, draped over a chair with his head near the floor and legs thrown over the back.

“You don’t have to call me Lord here in the common room, Dolohov. Not when it’s just us snakes around,” he told the third-year. “It’s an account of the life of Merlin, written just before his death.” He showed the excited boy the old book. Dolohov’s face fell when he realized he couldn’t read it, since it was written in Old English.

“How many languages do you know, Black?” he asked, frowning at the spidery script.

“Well, three forms of English, two of German, French, Latin, and Welsh. Oh, and Parseltongue. That’s, what, nine? I’m still working on Hebrew and Greek, and I know a little Russian,” he replied off-handedly, watching the younger boy’s eyes go wide. “Did you every have any language lessons? I don’t know how common those kinds of things are for English purebloods,” he played up his part of a private education in Germany.

“Just a little Latin and some French. Purebloods here usually learn Latin, but not much else.”

Hadrian frowned, thinking. This was a very isolationist idea. If his father wanted to reform the magical world of Britain, he would need to make sure it would stick and maybe spread from his own generation. Hadrian’s own knowledge wasn’t very uncommon among purebloods abroad, but in England it made him exceptional. He was very lucky to have met several well-educated German wizards in Azkaban over the summers. Harry Potter would never have had access to what he knew now. Neither did these young Slytherins. He would need to fix that.

“Do you think you or the other younger students would be interested in some lessons? I can teach you guys pretty much anything you want to know.” The boy’s face brightened.

“Anything? Even…Dark magic?” he whispered the last part. Hadrian smirked.

“I think you know who my parents are, Alex. It’s pretty safe to say I could teach you about Dark magic. It would have to be theory only, since it isn’t safe to actually cast any spells here in school.” He thought for a moment. “Tell you what, talk to your friends and spread the word in the house this week. Sunday morning, I’ll send you a note with a time and meeting place, and we’ll see who wants to go and what they want to learn, even if it’s just help with their homework. Can you do that for me?” Dolohov nodded and gave a quick bow of his head, dashing off to find his friends. Hadrian chuckled at the boy’s enthusiasm.

*** ***

Theo rested his elbows on the back of Hadrian’s chair, looking around at all the students gathered before them. The magical room, Hadrian called it the Room of Requirement, had expanded into an area three times the size of a normal classroom. In the center were four circular tables surrounded by chairs, all of them facing the back wall of the room where there were a few armchairs and a fire place. Off to the left was a cleared space for dueling and spell practice, complete with dummies and targets, while on the right were a number of empty cauldrons and an ingredients cupboard.

The students seated around the table looked to be most of the Slytherins, plus a few of the Darker Ravenclaws. All of the Death Eaters’ children were there, but there wasn’t a single one that looked as though they came out of fear of Hadrian’s father. Everyone looked excited to learn.

Hadrian looked up from his book as the clock in the room struck noon. He stood and clapped his hands twice, and a full tea service appeared on every table, including the one by the armchairs.

//A good turnout, isn’t it, Thorn?// Hadrian commented as everyone fixed him- or herself a cup of tea. Theo agreed. Even seventh-years had come, like Pucey.

“It’s great to see everyone here,” the Bone Man address the group at large. “Now, before we begin, can some of you tell me what it is you’d like to learn?”

A blackboard appeared on the back wall. At Hadrian’s nod, Theo wrote down each topic that was said.

“Latin!”

“German!”

“Glamours!”

“Transfiguration!”

“Dark magic!” Hadrian reminded them that they could only learn the theory on school grounds, to avoid being caught.

“General magical theory.”

“Runes!”

“Experimental potions.”

“Mind magic!”

At last, the topics seemed to run out. Hadrian looked over at the full board and chuckled, the sound rolling through the room and Theo’s mind.

“I guess we’ll have to make these lessons a regular thing,” he decided, and everyone grinned. “Ok, let’s see. All of you are either Dark or Grey in your magic, so I’ll teach you all some of the background theory of Dark magic. Next week, we can start splitting up into groups based on what you guys want to learn. I can see already that you guys are going to make me have to beg the sixth and seventh-years to help,” he affected a despairing expression, drawing laughs from the room. “Those of you who want to learn languages, speak to me afterwards and we can set up times, alright?”

Everyone nodded and Hadrian clapped again, this time summoning stacks of spare parchment and extra self-inking quills on each table. Everyone took the hint and prepared to take notes as he began to lecture.

“The difference between Light and Dark magic is the intention of the spell’s creator. Dark spells were created with the intention of causing harm, holding power over an opponent, or using negative emotions. That’s why there are occasionally Dark and Light spells with very similar effects. _Diffindo_ , for example, is a spell that cuts things. So is _Sectumsempra_. The difference is that _Diffindo_ was invented to cut things like cloth and potion ingredients, while _Sectumsempra_ was designed for cutting an enemy’s skin and causing them to bleed quickly. I could just as easily cut my Flobberworms in Potions with _Sectumsempra_ , or behead poor Draco here with a strong _Diffindo_.”

“Hey!”

“No worries, Dragon, I’m not about to give a demonstration.” Theo snorted. “There are other pairs like this: _Alohomora_ and _Cistem Aperio_ , the defensive Firestorm Spell and Fiendfyre, and the Entrail-Expelling Curse and Dolohov’s Curse, though the Ministry has since declared the Entrail-Expelling Curse as Dark due to common usage.

“Dark magic also tends to be more dependent on the intentions of the caster. For the most part, they need to be similar to those of the spell’s creater, which means you should know the intended use of any Dark spell you cast. If not done right, Dark spells can turn back on you in a way that Light spells never would…”

*** ***

Voldemort looked up as Severus entered his study, his hair fluorescent green and his scowl dark.

“Weasleys,” he spat in explanation. The Dark Lord chuckled and ended the spell and called a house elf to bring drinks. He waited until the Potions Master had taken his first sip of Firewhiskey before speaking.

“What brings you here today, Severus?”

“Dumbledore,” he answered shortly and sighed. “He is…concerned about your lack of activity, my Lord. He has not yet made the jump to your return to reason and your original aims, but he is frustrated. It is making the public think he was lying about last spring. Speculation is spreading about him and what might have really happened to Potter.”

“I see,” Voldemort murmured. “This is a good thing, is it not?”

“I would hesitate to agree, my Lord,” Severus replied, causing the older man to raise an eyebrow. “I believe that if you do not take some action soon, he will begin some plan to bring you into the fray.” Severus frowned, indicating he had something to say which he found distasteful, and the Dark Lord waved a hand. “My Lord, it is entirely possible he would involve Hadrian somehow. He knows that you and Bella are his parents, and the boy refuses to hide that fact from the school in general.”

“He is tired of hiding, Severus. We are proud to call ourselves a family, and I do not care if he shouts it to the world at large. Hadrian has proven he can take care of himself and his friends and supporters. We will continue the way we have been, working our way into the Ministry and the Wizengamot. I have something planned for Halloween that might appease Albus, as well. There are several rather…talkative Muggle families with magical children that need taken care of before they spread the knowledge of magic further. Again, I will offer them an oath of silence, obliviation, or death. There has been enough killing in these wars.”

“Of course, my Lord. Though if they all choose silence to obliviation, the Headmaster may still decide to put a plan into action,” Severus said, slightly worried.

“I am not concerned, Severus. Now, what can you tell me about Hadrian and Slytherin house? I haven’t spoken to my son since the first week of school.” Voldemort wanted to know how his son was adjusting to the Darker side of the school. The boy was incredibly smart, intelligent and clever enough that even Slytherin might ostracize him, even with young Malfoy’s support.

“Hadrian is the talk of the school, my Lord. He has defended every Snake and made his position clear to all the students and teachers. Attacks on the Slytherins as revenge for Potter’s disappearance have stopped because of him. He is…a force to be reckoned with, my Lord,” Severus huffed. “Kingsley Shacklebolt tells me he defeated the Granger girl spectacularly in a duel in Defense class, toying with her before allowing her to disarm him and then capturing her with wandless magic. His was the only duel that resulted in bloodshed.” The Dark Lord grinned at that.

“I shall have to ask him for the Pensieve memory. Continue, Severus.”

“I have had several requests to contact the Ministry about taking self-study OWLs and NEWTs from Slytherins saying Hadrian told them about the tests. I have also heard that he has begun lessons for anyone who wants on any subject he knows, though he has promised me that no one will actually be casting any Dark magic on school grounds. Nearly all the Slytherins disappear on Sunday afternoons, presumably to his lessons. He also teaches Latin, Old English, French and German in the evenings. All the teachers have noticed the rising grades and comprehension levels of his students. Frankly, my Lord, I’ve never seen anything like it. He can’t possibly have any spare time, but all of his assignments are done on time or before and they all receive Os.”

Voldemort all but glowed with pride over his son. The prophecy he had learned from Hadrian had chosen the right wizard. He was changing the world already, just by being himself. He was the Bone Man and the Wizard-Lord, more powerful than Merlin and deadly if crossed, but he was also a scholar and a kind soul. Gallus Hadrian Riddle-Black was exactly the person Magic needed to be returned to what it once was. He could prove that Dark was not always evil, and a Dark wizard could be kind and caring in ways that even the Light found difficult.

“He is a remarkable young man,” he remarked quietly.

“Indeed,” Severus agreed. “Lord Black has changed Slytherin for the better. It’s been a long time since I had seen some of my students smile, but your son can make them laugh. Even in public, they are less bitter and less likely to provoke arguments, though they all have perfect manners and masks that would make Lucius feel like a Gryffindor.” The two shared a chuckle at the thought of the slippery politician as a bumbling fool.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

The Room of Requirement was a wonderful invention, Hadrian decided. For Samhain, the room had become an ancient forest with a large circular clearing beneath a cloudless night sky. At the center burned a magical bonfire that would change color and height with the general mood. Large flat-topped stumps around the edge of the clearing held snacks and flagons of the traditional mead, though the archway that led to the exit was enchanted to cast a sobering charm on everyone as they left. Smaller stumps and fallen trees were seats and benches, and the ground was covered with soft grass and springy moss.

//Not quite the Forbidden Forest, but it’ll do,// he mused. A true forest would have been best. The Room couldn’t replicate the ancient magic of a forest, though it did create a passage for the centaurs, whom Hadrian had invited up, as well as the owls of the owlery. Samhain was a time for all magical beings to come together and celebrate wild and ancient magic. The magic of Samhain would not allow any wizard or creature to hurt another. In his last big lesson, Hadrian had told everyone about the origins of Samhain and his celebration. He anticipated most of the Slytherins and about half the Ravenclaws would be missing from Dumbles’s Halloween Feast.

“This is incredible!” Draco called as he entered with Theo and Blaise. Hadrian spread out his mind to encompass theirs. He had told Blaise the truth about who he was. The Italian wizard was Grey, and, though he didn’t want to be marked, he supported the Bone Man and had allowed him permission to enter his mind and speak there. Hadrian respected his friends too much to force his way in.

//Isn’t it? Everyone’s in for a great surprise!// He allowed his excitement to leak through the connection and they all grinned.

“Who all said they were coming?” Theo asked.

//The owls are here already, and some of the other magical birds of the Forbidden Forest felt the magic through the passage I opened. The Thestrals are in the trees somewhere. I know there’s a unicorn there somewhere, but he’s young and awfully shy. The centaurs gave a vague answer, but I think a few will come. A delegation from the Goblin Nation will be here later, but I don’t know who will be in it. Some Veela, who all promised to keep the allure to a minimum. There may be others who follow the magic here, too.// Jaws dropped and got progressively closer to the forest floor as Hadrian spoke.

They stayed that way until Adrian Pucey arrived with the first group of younger students. They had all decided that the sixth and seventh-year prefects would act as chaperones to bring the others to the Room. More groups came soon after.

After all the students had arrived, more creatures began to come. Centaurs could be found gazing at the cloudless sky, discussing the stars with Ravenclaw students. Goblins were demonstrating proper sword techniques to wide-eyed Slytherin boys. Younger students were riding the Thestrals, some of them visibly freaked out by the fact that they couldn’t see them. Older boys were flirting with the giggling Veela. Fairies floated about overhead, forming fairy rings just outside the light of the fire. Magic ran thick through the air, and everyone was relaxed and had half-lidded eyes from the intoxicating feeling. Hadrian himself was holding court among the snakes of the forest, speaking to a large three-headed Runespoor. Glancing around, he spotted a pair of forms kneeling just beyond the tree line feeding an apple to the young unicorn. Excusing himself, he went to see who it was.

As he approached, he realized it was Pucey holding the apple, while Dolohov reverently stroked the creature’s silver mane. He was surprised that Antonin’s son was so pure.

“Ad? Alex?” he questioned softly. Both turned, startled, and bowed to him.

“Black.”

“Honestly, guys, you can call me Hadrian.” He grinned. He knelt as they did and bowed lowly to the young unicorn. “It is good to see you here, Young Magic. You bless us with your presence,” he addressed it. The unicorn bent its own forelegs to kneel and inclined its head to him in return.

//The magic cannot be denied, my Wizard,// it spoke, surprising Hadrian with its chosen form of address. Only the Dementors had called him that.

“I would never assume to be your Wizard,” he whispered, ignoring Pucey and Dolohov’s confused looks. “My hands are stained with blood and death and my soul is Dark.”

//Nonetheless, you are the Wizard-Lord. You have done what was needed, and your intentions have always been for the betterment of Magic. You are kind and protective in a way that has not been seen in centuries, and for that, I forgive you the blood on your hands and death in your soul,// the unicorn intoned, pressing his horn to the spot where Hadrian’s lightning bolt scar was hidden. //For that, I heal you and bind you to your new blood. You have brought forgiveness to your blood.//

Hadrian gasped as felt the unicorn’s magic burn away his curse scar and warm his blood. The faint edges of discomfort from his past killings melted away and the shadows in the corners of his soul disappeared, leaving him feeling whole and healthy and clear. He knew the tiny tears in his soul had healed. The magic tingled as it travelled through his blood before he got the feeling that it was pulled away in two different directions.

*** ***

In the family wing of Malfoy Manor, Rodolphus caught his wife as her knees gave out on the way to their room. She looked up at him with eyes that sparkled, showing sanity and a happiness she hadn’t felt in years.

“I’m _healed_ ,” she whispered.

*** ***

In his bedroom in Riddle House, Voldemort staggered and caught one of the bedposts. The briefest flash of intense pain swept through him before a feeling of pure magic swept away the last of his madness and soothed the torn edges of his mind, chasing away the shadows on his magic. He collapsed onto the bed. The last thing the Dark Lord felt before losing consciousness was the split pieces of his soul returning.

*** ***

“Thank you,” Hadrian whispered, tears falling from his eyes. The unicorn nuzzled the drops away with his soft nose.

//No, my Wizard, thank _you_ ,// it answered. //You should bring these two when you visit the creatures of the Forest,// it told him before disappearing in a flash of movement.

Too stunned to move yet, Hadrian remained kneeling. Seeing the shock on his face, Dolohov hugged him. Returning to his senses, Hadrian wrapped his arms tightly around the young boy. Adrian put a hand on each of their shoulders.

“I don’t know how you did it, Alex,” he whispered to the small boy in his arms, “but don’t ever change. Either of you,” he added.

“What just happened, Hadrian?” Adrian asked. The Bone Man released Alex Dolohov and they sat cross-legged on the ground.

“A lot of it has to do with my past and a prophecy that was made about me. The unicorn just blessed me and my parents. We’ve all killed before, as you know, and killing leaves tears in your soul. The unicorn used its magic to heal all those tears. I think he also healed the last of the madness my parents had. I felt a lot of magic go to my father, so I’ll have to talk to him tomorrow.”

“The Dark Lord was blessed too? He’s…sane now?” Alex asked quietly. Hadrian wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders.

“Yes. He’s been getting there before tonight. That’s why all the raids and mass killings stopped. He wants to separate the magical and Muggle worlds as much as possible, ensuring we remain a secret, not exterminate all Muggles. He’s still working, just quietly and with as few deaths as possible.” He thought for a moment before adding with a smirk, “You know, he might even look normal now. I imagine he’s been missing having a nose and hair recently.” The three of them collapsed into giggles.

*** ***

Pucey went off to talk to some other members of the Quidditch team, but Alex stayed with Hadrian as he circulated around. They fed strips of raw meat to Thestrals, with smaller chunks for the various owls and falcons and eagles. The centaurs and Hadrian pointed out the constellations to him, telling him about the planets and their stories. Then they went to speak to the goblin delegation.

“Lord Black,” one of them greeted, but made no movement until Hadrian bowed and spoke.

“Director Ragnok, an honor to meet by moonlight. May your gold be endless and your enemies meet a painful end at your hands.” He bowed to the other goblins, who inclined their heads. “Well met by moonlight, Griphook, Gormek. May you both remain feared and wealthy.”

“Well met by moonlight, indeed, Wizard-Lord Black,” said the goblin in front, Director Ragnok. “May your magic be strong and may you have many strong sons.” He bowed to finish the greeting. “An invitation to a Samhain fire has not come to the Goblin Nation in many centuries. It is you who honor us, Lord Black. I see you have changed your blood. It suits you well.” Alex was confused by the statement, but Hadrian was not.

“Thank you, Director, it has made me a great deal happier. I owe the Nation a great many honors for their kind assistance this last spring. The Nation shall always find a friend in the Wizard-Lord.” Goblin eyes widened at his statement.

“You are a singular wizard, Lord Black,” one of the others said.

“Indeed,” agreed Ragnok. “The Nation will desire an official meeting with you, Wizard-Lord. You will receive an invitation to the Council in a few days.”

“Of course,” Hadrian bowed. “May fortune find you all.”

“You and yours as well,” returned Ragnok as the three goblins bowed. They gathered up swords and moved off, muttering in Gobbledygook. Alex had no idea what had just happened. Politics were not his strong suit, and goblins were the most political creatures there were.

“What just happened?” he asked, and Hadrian chuckled.

“I believe I just made a very powerful alliance with the Goblin Nation,” he answered. “They want me to meet with the Goblin King to put it in writing.” Even Hadrian sounded a bit stunned. “I suppose I’ll need to train someone to be a liaison with the Nation now,” he mused. “I don’t suppose you have any friends who have a burning interest in economics, goblin politics, and learning Gobbledygook, do you?” Even though he knew it was a joking question, Alex thought about his friends.

“Actually, I do. Castor Selwyn, he’s a Ravenclaw in my year.” Hadrian looked surprised, and Alex hurried to explain. “All the Selwyns are interested in magical creatures. Castor’s the oldest, so he’s the Heir, he loves going to Gringotts and he’ll read anything you give him about goblins. Only person I’ve ever met who likes learning about the Goblin Wars in Binns’s class.” Alex shook his head in mock disappointment. “His younger brother Chertan likes astronomy. He’s probably spent the whole time tonight talking to the centaurs. He’s a second-year. There’re also twin girls in first year, Atria and Askella. One likes Merpeople and one likes Dragons, but I forget which is which.”

“All children of the Death Eater Selwyn?”

“Yep. They’re all Ravenclaws, but they’re Dark and they support your father’s new ideals, their father told them about his changes over the summer.”

“Are they all here tonight?” Hadrian looked thoughtful. Alex nodded. “Can you go get them for me? Tell them I heard about their interests and want to talk to them all tonight before they leave.” The younger boy headed off to fetch his friends just as a show of falling stars began in the sky overhead, signaling that curfew was approaching.

*** ***

Hadrian looked up at the falling stars. Casting a weak Sonorus Charm on himself, he called out over the party.

“It’s almost curfew, everyone. It’s been fantastic that you all came, but everyone fourth-year and below should head off to bed now before we all end up in trouble! Fifth, sixth, and seventh years can stay if you want, since I need to talk politics and real world stuff with you. Also, I want Alex Dolohov and all the Selwyns to stay behind. The rest of you, I hate to chase you off, but goodnight!” He cancelled the charm and smiled as people grumbled good-naturedly and headed off.

Lowering the flames of the bonfire, he requested the Room to usher out the last of the creatures and close the passage to the Forest. Snacks and drinks disappeared, and a large number of chair-stumps popped up out of the ground in a half circle facing him and the fire. Hadrian readied himself to introduce himself as the Bone Man and the Wizard-Lord to the upper years, sinking down into his magic. Tonight he would ask for supporters and willing followers who wanted to take his Bone Sign. Dementor souls in his mind whispered encouragement. He decided he would only tell Alex and Pucey the whole truth and what happened to Harry Potter. If they wanted, he would give them personal signs.

The unicorn’s blessing still buzzed in his blood, giving him strength. As he reached into his core, he realized it had strengthened the bond to his parents created by the blood adoption. The blessing had also changed his eyes permanently to their mismatched colors, for which he was thankful. His last ties to the Potters gone, leaving only the title and vaults in his name.

Hadrian scanned those left behind. All the seventh-years and sixth-years that had come, and most of the fifth-years, had stayed. Those that had left were Grey, not Dark, so Hadrian respected their decisions. It was early yet. Alex and the Selwyns were in the back of the group, but it was a thin frame with long blonde hair that caught his eye. Luna Lovegood gave him a suspiciously clear-eyed and knowing look and pointed to her temple. Hadrian got the hint and wrapped up her mind in his.

//Tell me, Schmetterling, are you possibly a Seer?// he questioned, straight to the point.

//Fate does whisper to me occasionally,// she admitted. //I see you discovered Fate’s true desires for you. Your new blood suits you, Gallus Hadrian, as do your eyes. I will not mourn the death of Harry Potter, as I see he is in a better place.// She smiled. Hadrian was surprised and pleased.

//How could I have ever dismissed you, Schmetterling?//

//Harry Potter had poor eyesight,// she answered snidely, and Hadrian snorted. //I like my name. Will you make my mark one, Gallus?//

//Of course I can,// he promised. //Will it make any difference if I insist you call me Hadrian?//

//No,// she replied breezily. //I like it, a perfect name for the man who remains unknown. The cock crew and the serpent slept,// she said mysteriously. Gallus was the rooster constellation, one that wasn’t recognized anymore, and the crow of the rooster was fatal to the Basilisk, just as Hadrian had once killed a Basilisk. Luna was clever and witty as always. //It’s only a shame it went to bed before dinner. It could have had a lovely evening meal of goat.//

Hadrian just laughed.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Lucius followed his Lord through the fireplace, exiting the Floo in Salazar’s study in the Chamber of Secrets. He had a lot of questions that morning. He was looking forward to the upcoming chat Hadrian would be having with his father.

To say Lucius had been surprised when he saw the Dark Lord that morning would be to commit the grossest of understatements. When his Lord had apparated into the breakfast room at Malfoy Manor that morning, he had not recognized him and had nearly cursed the Dark Lord as an intruder before he had noticed the man’s still-crimson eyes.

The eyes were the only way Lucius had recognized his Lord. The Dark Lord looked to be about thirty-five, with dark hair and pale-yet-healthy skin. The features of his face had been restored, though how, he did not know.

The Dark Lord refused to explain anything yet, demanding that Lucius come with him to Hogwarts to speak with Hadrian.

And thus, Lord Malfoy found himself in a secret room beneath the halls of Hogwarts, watching the pacing and muttering of the (dare he say it?) _handsome_ Dark Lord as he fiddled agitatedly with a bone-white amulet.

At length, Hadrian appeared with Draco in tow. He bowed lightly to his father, as did Draco, before they both settled on a settee.

“I see you had an interesting night, Father,” Hadrian stated lightly. The Dark Lord glared.

“Explain. Now. Ten words or less.”

“I and my family were blessed by a unicorn.”

Lucius gaped unabashedly for a moment. How did a Dark wizard with an even Darker father receive a blessing of the unicorn? Unicorns were the embodiment of Magic and Purity. Hadrian, with the blood on his hands and the people he had killed, should never have been able to get near one.

“What?” the Dark Lord ground out.

“You said ten words or- ok, ok. Last night was Samhain, so I held a bonfire and invited all the students I’ve been teaching or working with, plus the goblins and centaurs and the other creatures of the Forbidden Forest, and this young unicorn felt the magic and showed up. It spoke to me and acknowledged me as the Wizard-Lord, and I ask why it would ever deign to speak to me, since I’m not exactly Light or Pure. It said my intentions were always for the best of Magic, and it forgave me the deaths I had caused and blessed me.” Hadrian touched his forehead reverently. “It healed my curse scar and the rips in my soul. I felt the magic flow out of me in two directions, presumably you and Mum. I would guess it cured the last of Mum’s insanity, and yours, but what else did it do for you?”

Thoroughly shock, Lucius could do nothing but sit and listen to his Lord’s description of the blessing of Magic.

“The blessing did much the same for me as it did for you. It dispelled the last of my madness and the shadows on my magic. It also…reunited me with my Horcruxes, which brought about the return of my features.”

“All of them?” Hadrian gasped.

“Not quite. You destroyed my first one, but the blessing healed the hole that left in my soul. The only Horcrux that remains is the one that was once in you,” the Dark Lord answered, holding up the amulet.

“Will you make more, Father? I know you once believed in the power of the number seven.” The Dark Lord shook his head.

“No. I no longer fear death, but I will keep this part of my soul safe. It should be kept away from me, so a determined assassin does not have too easy a task with me.”

As he spoke, the Dark Lord rose and placed the bone pendant, carved with runes, over his son’s head.

“Keep me safe, Hadrian.”

The Bone Man looked at his father with tears in his eyes, and Draco squeezed his hand.

“I will, my Lord Father.” The Dark Lord smiled and squeezed his shoulder before returning to his seat.

“Now, tell me more about your Samhain celebration.”

*** ***

Albus Dumbledore watched his students eating dinner, lording over them all from his position at the Head Table. He smiled benevolently at the hotheaded Weasley and the dull, bookish Granger. Sweeping his gaze across the hall, he narrowed his eyes at the Slytherin table. The students of that house were far too happy lately. He knew Black had something to do with warm emotions in their eyes, even when their masks were cool, and the new teasing manner they treated each other and some of the other students with.

That was something he would need to change. When the Slytherins were bitter and mean, he had power. Everyone classified them as Dark, and thus equated Dark with evil, while trusting his kind manners as an example of the Light. If the Snakes stopped being mean, how could he brainwash the younger students each year?

Albus noticed Black was missing from the table, though Malfoy and Nott were there, chatting happily with the quiet Zabini boy. Searching the Hall, he spotted the disfigured boy at the Ravenclaw table, along with the seventh-year Pucey and the third-year Dolohov, surrounded by the Selwyn children. They were all speaking very seriously, though Black kept flashing scarred grins at the younger children.

This was not good at all. Was it not bad enough that half the Ravens had disappeared along with the Slytherins on Halloween several weeks ago? Now the boy was spreading his Dark taint to the rest of the house! How dare they accept him, how dare they let him sit there at dinner like he wasn’t the son of the Darkest wizard to walk the earth and an insane bitch of a Death Eater!

Well, that just settled it. Albus would put his plan into action after the Christmas hols. Black needed to be eliminated before he ruined everything. ‘Plus,’ Albus thought to himself, ‘I can use his as bait to lure out his father.’ He grinned evilly at his idea and applied himself to his Sunday roast dinner.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Hadrian surveyed the ballroom of Malfoy Manor, pleased with the turnout. He had convinced his father to hold a ball in celebration of Yule. Mingling on the floor and around the buffet tables were Death Eaters and their children, allies of the Bone Man and the Dark Lord, the Bone Man’s marked followers (a group that had grown significantly on Samhain and since to include all the Dark students fifth-year and up) and his supporters.

Stretching his mind out, he wrapped his presence around all of them, sinking into the warmth of their happiness and companionship. All conversation stopped as everyone felt his entrance and turned to look at him. He stood to the right of his father in the doorway, happily observing this unexpected side of the Dark Order.

“Greetings, all,” said Voldemort, “and thank you for coming and joining with us in celebration of Yule.”

//Well met by dusk,// added Hadrian, seeing the setting sun send rays of dusky light through the wall of windows at the far end.

The Bone Man and the Dark Lord bowed, signaling the music to begin again, then plunged into the crowd to mingle and schmooze.

Hadrian chatted with vampires and werewolves, flirted with Veela, talked politics and banking with goblins, and stargazed with centaurs in the courtyard. He introduced the Selwyn children to various groups of creatures: Castor to the goblins, Chertan to the centaurs. He spoke with Atria about the anonymous letters she had been exchanging with Charlie Weasley and promised to introduce Askella to the Merpeople of Black Lake when the weather warmed up.

Tiring of speaking, Hadrian longed to dance. So, he walked up to Antonin Dolohov, plucked the wineglass from his hand, and spun him out onto the floor. The Death Eaters he had been speaking to laughed riotously at his shocked expression. Antonin blushed and recovered himself, accepting his role in the dance with grace.

“Lord Black, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

//Oh, chalk it up to boredom,// Hadrian replied glibly. //Actually, I do need to speak with you, but I wished to dance, so we will be speaking while we dance.//

“A-And what did you wish to speak with me about, Lord Black?” It seemed Antonin had not forgotten their first meeting.

//Your son, Alexander. Tell me, Dvoryanin Dolohov, are you aware of the fact that Alexander is pure enough in heart and magic to be approached by a unicorn?// Antonin’s eyes widened comically.

“Truly? My Alex?” he whispered.

//Indeed.// Hadrian was quiet a moment while the pair executed a complicated turn and changed leads flawlessly. He always moved with grace, but Antonin’s skill was a pleasant surprise. //Antonin, I would make a request of you,// he began.

“Of course, Lord Black. What would you request?”

//I would ask that you allow Alex to be free of your plans for him. He expressed an interest in the old tongues and forgotten magic to me, one that I wish to foster. Also, it is my belief that forcing him into the ranks of the Death Eaters would tarnish the purity of his magic. He fully supports the Dark Lord, but he does not wish to be a warrior. Let him become my apprentice instead.//

Dolohov was quiet as the pair completed the dance, thinking over the Bone Man’s proposition. Hadrian allowed the silence to continue comfortably. He knew that if he pushed the issue, he was more likely to be turned down. Antonin did not speak again until they had bowed to each other and stepped away.

“Lord Black, I accept your request,” he said simply. Hadrian thanked him and shook his hand.

With that out of the way, he was free to dance for pure fun. He grabbed partners left and right, cutting off their conversations and taking snacks and drinks right from their hands before whirling them onto the floor. Everyone in the room commented on Hadrian’s grace and skill as he quick-stepped with Draco, waltzed with Theo and Blaise, executed a perfect Tango with his mother, and taught Pucey the basics of a traditional folk dance. But when he stepped up with Rabastan, everyone stopped to watch.

Giving a nod to the orchestra, Hadrian stepped into his arwr’s hold as a lively swing song began.

“Triple step, arwr,” he murmured.

“It’s always triple step with you, dihiryn. Should’ve never taught you triple step,” came the mock-grouchy reply.

Rabastan had been the one to teach him to dance and enjoy it, and he would always be Hadrian’s favorite partner. The steps came without thought as he was twirled into the older wizard’s arms and back out again. With an effortless and instinctive change of lead, Hadrian spun his arwr into his arms and dipped him. Rabastan took advantage to kiss him quickly before righting himself and taking back the lead. Hadrian let loose a rich, full-bodied laugh with both voice and thoughts, falling back into the movement.

*** ***

Voldemort smiled, watching his son dance and laugh with the former prisoner. Even with his scars and disconcerting eyes, Hadrian was beautiful when he laughed, and he was grace itself on the dance floor.

The quick song ended with a short bridge, morphing into a slow tune. Voldemort recognized it as “Moonlight Serenade,” a song he had not heard since his years at the orphanage during the Second World War. The watchers around him realized that Hadrian’s little show was over and began to return to the floor: Lucius and Narcissa, Nott and Dolohov and their wives, young Theo and Draco, Zabini and the elder Greengrass girl. The Dark Lord sipped his wine, looking over the quietly content couples that defied the Light’s definition of the Dark.

“My Lord,” a soft voice beside him drew his attention.

“Bella,” he greeted.

“My Lord, I would honored to share this dance with you, something I am sure Hadrian would be happy to see.” He exaggerated a sigh but took her proffered hand. Her ploy was obvious, but how could he refuse something that would make his son happy? He couldn’t.

In the center of the floor, he held Bella close like the old friend and sister she was to him. Hadrian looked up from Rabastan’s arms with such joy and peace in his eyes that it was almost like a physical blow to his heart. Lord Voldemort finally understood what people said about Yule being a time of love and family. The people around him were his family, and the Dark Lord loved them all in his own way. This was the life that was denied to him in the orphanage, and it filled him with happiness to have finally found it and to share it with his beloved son. Hadrian understanding and agreement trickled into his mind. They were two wizards who would never take a loving family for granted.

The sounds of shattering glass ripped through the peaceful atmosphere, and screams rent the air.

*** ***

Hadrian ripped free of Rabastan’s arms, summoning his old hooded robe and cowl to hide his face as the wall of windows was blasted inwards. He spit out curses in three different dead languages. There were children here, children whose only crime was in their family names! Through the now-empty window frames, he recognized members of the Order of the Phoenix and cursed again.

‘Well, it was about time the Order met the Bone Man,’ he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father cast a spell to give him his old Lord Voldemort appearance. Another scream reached his ears, a child’s this time. Rage boiled in him as he called his Dementors.

//Remove anyone under the age of sixteen and anyone who doesn’t carry the Dark Mark or the Bone Sign,// he ordered, and the Dementors transported about half the people in the room away. No sense in forcing children and mere supporters into a warriors fight.

“We have come for the man who calls himself Voldemort!” Albus Dumbledore shouted out. “Stand aside and we will not hurt you!” he promised.

Hadrian stepped to the front of the crowd, seething. He pushed magic into his runes, making them glow. Beneath his robe he hastily changed his formal clothes into the simple pair of short trousers he had worn when he first met with the Dark Lord. He banished his recognizable wand back to his room and instead donned his choker and anklet of ear bones.

Ready, he swept his mind across the Order’s forces, shattering Occlumency barriers without care. His mind was ice-cold against theirs. He gave them none of the comfort or safety the Dark side felt from him.

 **And if we should refuse?** he asked with both his voices. The effect was menacing, making even some of the Death Eaters shiver.

“Fight and you will fall,” returned Dumbledore. “None can withstand the Light. We are all that his good and righteous in this world.”

 **Arrogant fool, you know not who you insult with your careless words,** the Bone Man growled. **You make rash promises you cannot keep. I will not stand aside.**

Hadrian stood at the apex of the group, with Draco on his right, Theo on his left, and Rabastan just behind him with his other followers. Everyone who carried the Bone Sign without the Dark Mark was shrouded in a black robe and hood, while the known Death Eaters, gathered around Voldemort off to the side, had left their faces clear.

“Then their blood shall be on your hands,” Dumbledore said, and his Order began to cast spells, rushing in through the broken windows. Hadrian created a massive shield around his side that allowed their spells through but stopped the Light’s.

//Incapacitation only,// he ordered the Dark. //Do not aim to kill.// Many gave him odd looks, but no one argued. His authority was equal to the Dark Lord’s, after all.

The Bone Man watched the battle rage around him, making no move to join just yet. Order members fell left and right, stunned or bound by ropes, but not one spell reached the Dark. Eventually he grew bored.

 **Stop,** he ordered. **This has gone on long enough.** He sent out a wide range wandless stunner that left only Dumbledore standing against him. **It was foolish to come here tonight, Dumbledore.**

Wand still raised, the Headmaster turned to him.

“Who are you?”

Hadrian stepped forward, his father just behind him, leaving the shield behind. He dropped his hood, allowing the Headmaster to see his glowing eyes and Killing Curse green runes.

 **I am the Bone Man, and I look forward to introducing myself to you again in the future,** he answered. He pressed a finger to Dumbledore’s forehead. **_Obliviate._**

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Christmas morning came bright and early to the Dark Order. Everyone in the Inner Circle gathered in the breakfast room to eat before they were dismissed to open presents by the Dark Lord. The teenagers (and some of the adult Death Eaters) practically ran down the hallway to the room with the tree. Hadrian collapsed across the sofa in a way that he was touching Draco, Theo _and_ Rabastan. Alex plopped down on the floor with his head on the Bone Man’s knee. Chuckling at the happy young (and young at heart) people, the Dark Lord gave an imperious order that the Selwyn children would be passing out the presents.

Thanks to the four excited children, everyone had a little pile in their laps shortly and began to rip into them, brightly colored paper flying. Exclamations and thanks were voiced from every corner of the room.

For all that he loved his presents, Hadrian could hardly contain his excitement about his surprise gift for his father. When all the packages had been opened and the elves had cleared up the shredded paper, he stood and handed a card to his father, who raised an eyebrow.

“Read it out loud,” he ordered.

“’Stay there,’” read the Dark Lord. “What-“

Before Voldemort could finish his question, Hadrian apparated away. His father’s gift was hidden away in a place the older man would never know to look: the hut in the North Sea where Lucius had first met the Bone Man.

Grabbing his father’s surprise, Hadrian returned to Malfoy Manor as quickly as he had left.

No one had moved since he had vanished. Spotting his gift, Voldemort rose from his chair and took a shaky step forward.

“Barty…?”

*** ***

Voldemort read the two words on his son’s card with confusion.

“’Stay there.’ What-“ Hadrian vanished before he could finish his question. A little frustrated, the Dark Lord frowned and waited for his son’s return. Hadrian reappeared an instant later.

But not alone.

Held tightly by Hadrian’s hand was a slim young man with brown hair and dark eyes, alight with curiosity and the barest hint of madness. A man Voldemort had missed dearly, but had never expected to see truly _alive_ again.

“Barty…?” The Dark Lord wondered distantly when he had taken a step forward, but that wasn’t important. The man in front of him was the only important thing in the world right now. Bartemius Crouch, Jr. Barty, _his_ Barty.

“My Lord,” Barty replied, looking deeply into the Dark Lord’s crimson eyes. He reached out a hand, but didn’t touch, as though he couldn’t decide if he was still permitted to touch his Master.

Voldemort made the decision for him, sweeping the young man into his arms and kissing him deeply. _His_ Barty, his lover, the man he thought was lost on the very night of his return.

It was like he never left. Barty threw his arms around the taller man’s neck, molding their bodies together. They fit together, just as they had all those years ago.

Voldemort pulled away, panting for air, and rested his forehead against Barty’s.

“How?” he whispered. “The Dementor’s Kiss…” He trailed off as Hadrian laughed richly.

“My Lord Father, have you forgotten me? I don’t just call myself the Wizard-Lord for kicks, you know,” he scolded lightly. “I had to let him be Kissed for appearances’ sake, but the Dementors there gave me his soul right away. Rabastan took good care of his body in Azkaban, while Barty’s soul resided comfortably in my mindscape. Right before I met with you, I went to Azkaban and simply…put Humpty-Dumpty together again,” he grinned cheekily, but Voldemort was too happy to even scowl at the childish Muggle reference. Reluctantly, he let go of his long-lost lover to hug his son tightly.

“Thank you. I cannot possibly…you don’t know…” Hadrian just nodded.

“You did something very similar on my birthday,” he said seriously, then smiled again. “Now get out of here, you two. You’ve got some catching up to do!”

The Dark Lord ignored everyone’s good-natured laughter in favor of grabbing Barty again and apparating straight to his rooms.

*** ***

“How could you possibly know about the Lord and Barty?” Bella asked incredulously. Hadrian smirked.

“I knew Barty was impersonating Alastor Moody since the Welcoming Feast of my fourth year,” he explained after carefully making sure that no one he didn’t know his history could hear, “and one day after class, I told him so. Convinced him not to kill me, since he still believed all the stories about me. He escaped Azkaban before I started visiting. I showed him my scars and told him why I wanted to join the Dark. We still had to go through his plan, just for appearances. I was supposed to be able to join the Dark Lord during the Third Task, but my father…” he frowned, remembering how desperately he had searched for a way to just _talk_ with the Dark Lord in that graveyard. “My father was still blinded by his insanity. Everything went pear-shaped rather quickly that night, but I still managed to save Barty. Sometimes, during my fifth year, I spent time with Barty in my mindscape. He’s a good friend, and he really loves the Dark Lord. And my father deserves all the happiness he can get.” He suddenly grinned. “Maybe if we’re lucky, we’ll see the return of the Amazing Bouncing Ferret!”

Draco blanched, and Hadrian laughed.

“That hurt!”

“Oh, but it was so much fun! Barty and I laughed about that for _days!_ Tell me, Dragon, is that your animagus form?” he asked sweetly, just to make Draco blush.

*** ***

Draco leaned back in his seat, linking his fingers with Theo’s. The train compartment was quiet. None of them wanted to go back to school.

Of course, the older teens were ridiculously hung over as well. The night before had been their farewell party, combined with a celebration of Barty’s official return and his establishment as the Dark Lord’s Consort. Draco smiled when he remembered the Dark Lord’s heartfelt speech and proposal. Hadrian had been over the moon about it all.

That morning’s headlines had been about the disappearance of Bartemius Crouch, Jr. from Azkaban and speculation on whether the Dark Lord would really bother wasting time to rescue a Kissed man, Death Eater or not. They had all found it amusing.

Nothing was quiet amusing now that they were all slumped on benches. Trains and hangovers did not mix well.

“How can you be out of hangover potion, Dragon? Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of Potions prodigy?” Hadrian groused. Draco looked down at the Bone Man’s head in his lap, hand over his eyes. Blaise grunted in agreement across the compartment, where he and Daphne Greengrass appeared to be holding each other up. Pucey snickered next to them.

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Ad?” Theo asked.

“You know, if any of you could be bothered to ask nicely, I _might_ just share this lovely little headache-curing spell I know,” he smirked. Hadrian was up in a flash, kneeling prostrate in front of the older boy.

“Oh, Adrian, my very _favorite_ Healer-in-training, could you ever _possibly_ share your knowledge with me?” he begged. Pucey laughed and touched his wand to Hadrian’s temple. The Bone Man sighed in relief. After everyone else had begged and was granted the spell, the atmosphere in the compartment was much cheerier.

The group was chatting and laughing by the time they left the train, joined by Alex, young Rowle, the Selwyns, and a dreamy Luna Lovegood. Seeing Hadrian, Luna’s faraway look dropped, replaced by sadness and concern she couldn’t hide.

“Schmetterling? What’s going to happen?” Draco didn’t understand. Going to happen? Was she a Seer.

“Pain. Blood. Death,” she spit out, eyes hazing over. Her voice lost its misty sound.

_“In darkest night the Light shall rise_   
_And seek the skeleton close his eyes_   
_Blood shall run which ran before_   
_Though still the earth will thirst for more_   
_Chains break not the one they hold_   
_What is hidden will be told”_

Everyone stared at the swaying girl in shock. It was Pucey who caught her as she fell in a faint. The older boy swept her up bridal style, turning wide eyes on Hadrian.

“What just happened?”

*** ***

Hadrian couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. Pucey’s question broke his trance, and he sank towards the ground, clutching his head.

“No. No, no, no no no no NO!” He punched the ground and swore. “A prophecy. I’m so sick of fucking PROPHECIES about me!” He magic lashed out and slapped them all, making them stagger. He called his familiar and told the snake what his little Schmetterling had just said.

~Fly quickly and tell my father, Änderung. This concerns me and it isn’t good.~ The snake hissed acknowledgment, changing into a raven and taking flight.

“Let’s go,” he ordered everyone darkly. “We can’t hide from Fate. Tonight’s the new moon, it’s coming soon.” They all piled into carriages without a word.

The Welcoming Feast was unbearable. Hadrian could hardly avoid watching the light fade from the enchanted ceiling. When they were dismissed, night was upon them.

As he left the Hall, he saw Ginny Weasley trip over Draco.

“Oh, sorry!” she exclaimed, grabbing onto the Bone Man to stop her fall. Something cold and metallic touched his hand, and the pull in his stomach told him he had just been portkeyed away.

He staggered and screamed with rage as he landed, couldn’t do anything else before something heavy smashed into the back of his head and the blackness took him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Dvoryanin is the English transliteration of дворянин, which means “Lord” or “Nobleman” in Russian. Dolohov isn’t a very English name, after all. To me, Antonin is e member of the branch of the Dolohov family that immigrated to Britain from Russian generations ago, and the Russian Dolohovs are nobility and possibly related to the Tsars.
> 
> Schmetterling is German for “butterfly.” Hadrian gives Luna this nickname because she’s beautiful and fragile like a butterfly, but also not what is expected. Just like no one would connect the frail butterfly with the harsh German name.
> 
> All the spells used in the duels came from the Harry Potter Wiki.


	3. The Fall of the Old Regime

_In darkest night the Light shall rise_  
And seek the skeleton close his eyes  
Blood shall run which ran before  
Though still the earth will thirst for more  
Chains break not the one they hold  
What is hidden will be told

Voldemort paced, ignoring his lover’s worried glances as his mind ran in circles around the words, tying them up in knots and smoothing them out again. He search for the meaning, the ending, the way to avoid it all, but there wasn’t one. The prophecy promised blood and pain, and the secrets of Hadrian’s past would come to light.

For who else could the skeleton be?

Making another pass of the room, Barty caught his arm. The Dark Lord pulled and tried to turn away, but the younger man refused to let go. He wrapped his arms around him tightly, offering what comfort he could.

“We don’t know when it will happen, my love. It could be years from now,” he murmured reassuringly. “’Darkest night’ has no defined date, the new moon happens once a month. It doesn’t have to be tonight.”

Voldemort sighed, acknowledging Barty’s logic. It was not likely to be soon. Albus would be a fool to try anything while Hadrian was still in school, surrounded by other children. He nodded, relaxing into Barty’s arms.

“Of course. Hadrian will be safe in the school. There are too many eyes watching there.” Barty smiled.

The Dark Lord allowed his beloved to coax him into a chair by the fire, pulling the smaller man down onto his lap and planting kisses along his jaw. They had both finally relax when the door flew open, hitting the wall with a resounding crash. Lucius leaned on the frame, gripping it tightly to keep himself upright. Behind him, Severus was bent over with his hands on his knee, trying to catch his breath.

“My Lord,” Lucius panted, “Hadrian…gone…taken.”

All the windows in Riddle Manor shattered as one when the Dark Lord roared in rage and pain.

*** ***

Blaise watched as the ginger bitch walked into Draco, tripping over him and falling into Hadrian. The whole motion slowed down, but he couldn’t do a thing about it. He had a sudden feeling that this was the moment that had been foretold by Lovegood, but he was helpless as he watched the two vanish in a whirl of color.

“Shit!”

The Bone Man’s presence left his mind suddenly, leaving it cold and empty. All around him, their allies were looking around, feeling Hadrian’s disappearance as well. Blaise knew he had to act quickly. He silenced Draco before he could shout and grabbed him and Theo, pushing them towards a side corridor. As an afterthought, snagged Lovegood as well.

“What the fuck just happened?!” Theo snarled. Glancing at him, Blaise saw his magic leaking through. His runes were showing on his face, glowing with a black radiance like his eyes. Draco’s eyes were glowing as well.

“Not here,” he grunted. “Snape’s rooms.” They both nodded and took off. Blaise sighed and took Lovegood’s hand, dragging her along with them.

Snape threw open the door to heavy pounding, glaring at them murderously- until he noticed the glowing eyes and visible runes on Theo face. He ushered them inside quickly, sweeping his gaze across the corridor.

“Tell me what happened,” he ordered. Blaise clamped a hand down on Theo’s arm, shutting him up.

“The Weasley girl just kidnapped Hadrian away, portkeying him out of the Great Hall,” he answered. “Professor, the Dark Lord needs to know _now_. This isn’t going to end well.” Snape narrowed his eyes at Blaise’s tone, then turned his piercing gaze on Lovegood.

“Why is she here?” he asked disdainfully.

“She’s a Seer. She gave a prophecy this afternoon. It’s about what’s happening now,” Blaise explained, cutting off Draco and Theo.

“What?!” the Potions Master exclaim with wide eyes. “Recite. Now.” Lovegood gave him an uncharacteristically lucid stare and spoke in clear voice without any of her usual mistiness.

“ _In darkest night the Light shall rise_  
And seek the skeleton close his eyes  
Blood shall run which ran before  
Though still the earth will thirst for more  
Chains break not the one they hold  
What is hidden will be told”

Blood drained from Snape’s face alarmingly fast. Without another word, he sealed the door with a spell and herded them all toward the Floo. Blaise hung back, answering the Professor’s questioning eyebrow with a level gaze.

“I’m only a support, not one of his marked. I need to stay here.” Snape nodded, sweeping the other three into the fireplace.

“Riddle Manor!” he called, and they vanished in a rush of green flames.

“Oh, Merlin, let this end well,” Blaise whispered to himself in the empty room.

*** ***

Rabastan fell to his knees, all the air leaving his lungs at once. He grasped the wrists of the blonde girl in front of him with a bruising grip.

“Tell me how it ends, Seer. Tell it’ll all be alright,” he begged, not above a whisper.

The girl, Luna, closed her eyes. Runes shone silver-blue through her skin, spiraling up her arms and neck, swirling around her eyes, a testament to Hadrian’s skill and artistry. Her eyes were white and opaque when she opened them, filmed over by tears.

“I can’t. Fate has hidden the end from me,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Tell me what you see!” he demanded in a voice that was half shout and half sob. The girl trembled, sobs of her own racking her thin frame.

“Blood. Pain. Death. The reaper’s victim is hidden from me. The Bone Man in chains. This will be his greatest triumph or his end.” Her eyes cleared. “I’m sorry, Rabastan. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Rabastan howled. Arms snaked around him, Rodolphus’s, lifting him gently off the floor. He let go of the girl, letting Bella pull her into her chest and cry into her hair.

\C’mon, Rab. Off to bed,\ Rodolphus told him through their twin bond. \Hadrian’s so strong, he’ll make it through. You can’t succumb to weakness while he’s gone.\

\Rudo, what if he doesn’t?\ Rabastan asked his brother shakily. \I love him, I can’t lose him, not now that I’m free!\

\I know, Rab, I know. He will.\

*** ***

For the first time ever, Voldemort didn’t care who was around him. He didn’t care who was watching. He didn’t care about his image, his reputation, his need to stay aloof and above it all, he didn’t _care_. He buried his face in Barty’s neck and cried.

“My son, my precious Hadrian,” he gasped out. He could feel Barty’s tears fall into his hair as the man cried for the fate of his personal savior. He barely felt it as his lover apparated them away to their room. He was pushed down onto a bed, Barty’s arms wrapped around him. He curled into the smaller man’s chest, soaking his shirt with tears.

“Hush, my love, it’ll be alright. We’ll find him, my Lord, we’ll bring him back,” Barty soothed, voice choked with his own tears.

In the darkest night, the two lovers clung together in their shared pain and sorrow.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Hadrian woke slowly to his pain. He could feel blood trickling down his neck from where he was struck on the head. He was bound standing, the bindings pulling on his joints. His feet were chained to the floor, shackles around his ankles. His wrists were bound together, suspended from the ceiling. The chain gave him just enough slack to barely bend his elbows if he stood as straight as possible. Slumped unconscious, it had pulled at his shoulders.

But the worst was the collar. Thick, cold metal, it was skin-tight around his neck. Pulling his magic up to test its strength, he found out the hard way it was a magic-dampening collar. It pulled his power from him, the metal turning a faint red and growing uncomfortably hot before Hadrian let his magic go again.

Well, then.

“That’s it? That’s the best of your escape attempt?” a snide voice asked from behind him. Ginny Weasley, the one who brought him here.

“Of course not,” he answered in a voice dripping with hatred and disdain. “I’m merely testing and strategizing. Make a plan that involves the least pain for me and the most death for the Light.” He turned his head and fixed her with a deadly glare. “And rest assured I’ll kill you first.”

She laughed at him. Hadrian began to make plans for her slow death.

“You’re not going to kill anyone,” she told him, smirking. “Dumbledore’s going to use you to lure out your pathetic parents, and then he’s going to kill you in front of them.” Hadrian gave a ruthless, bloodthirsty smile.

“Oh, you really don’t want to do that. My father has a rather famous temper.” He paused and gave a mock-thoughtful expression. “In fact, you probably don’t want to bring my father here at all. He’d kill you all without a thought, and no one could stop him.” She blanched slightly but sneered.

“Oh yeah? Who do you think your father is, anyway? He’s no match for Dumbledore.” Hadrian smiled at her, but his eyes were cold.

“My father is the Dark Lord Voldemort, and Dumbledore hasn’t got a catch against him without Harry Potter as a human shield or distraction.” Deciding to throw her a bone, he added, “I made sure of that.”

Ginny gasped, her face screwing up with rage. She pressed her wand to his chest, right over his heart.

“What did you do to Harry?!” she demanded. Hadrian laughed coldly.

“I killed him.”

The redheaded girl screamed. She slashed his chest open wide, but he only laughed harder as blackness flickered in the corners of his vision again.

“I KILLED HARRY POTTER!” he taunted her, goading her to make further cuts. “I did it! And you know what?” He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ll never regret it, not as long as I live.”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Voldemort swept into the Reception Hall, crimson eyes glowing. He had long ago given up holding his magic in check. His rage and Dark power rippled out across the Hall and all those assembled, forcing them all to their knees. Even Barty knelt behind his throne on the raised dais. The Dark Lord stood on the platform, not even bothering to sit.

Arranged before him was the entire might of the Dark. Hundreds of witches and wizards, marked either by himself or Hadrian, the Alphas of the Werewolf packs of Britain, Vampire clan leaders, representatives of the Veela flights and Goblin Nation. Drifting behind the dais was the Dementor King. Every one stood still and silent, awaiting their orders. They all knew something terrible had happened for their Lord to call a full meeting so suddenly.

“Albus Dumbledore has brought his death upon him tonight, and he will die at my hand for his actions,” Voldemort hissed. “This evening he has captured the Bone Man with the intent to kill him. His life is forfeit for daring to lay hands against my son.”

Across the Hall, shocked and curious eyes flicked up toward him. He had kept this secret long enough.

“The Bone Man is a sixteen-year-old wizard by the name of Gallus Hadrian Riddle-Black, Lord Black. The Light is foolish in the extreme if they believe they will survive the capture and imprisonment of a wizard stronger than Merlin and my son and Heir. They will die, and this war will end.” Hisses and murmurs of approval and agreement swept the ranks of the Dark.

“Your orders are to find him and tell me. I will personally go to my son and slaughter anyone who stands between me and my Hadrian. Understood?” His voice was as cold as ice and harder than diamond. The ranks bowed as one and disappeared to begin work immediately.

*** ***

Theo knelt on the hard stone beside Draco. The blond had his head in front of the fireplace, speaking to Blaise and Pucey through the secure connection in Snape’s rooms.

“No one’s seen the Weasley girl since she took Hadrian. Weasel and the Mudblood weren’t at breakfast, either, and they didn’t go to lessons. Dumbledore was at lunch, but we wasn’t there at breakfast or dinner,” Blaise informed them. Draco’s hands clenched into fists and he took a hard breath in through his nose.

“You think he’s got the Weasels and the Mudblood watching him while he isn’t there?” Theo asked, running gentle fingers across the stiff tendons in Draco’s neck.

“Probably,” Blaise shuffled on the stone floor. “Alex Dolohov and I called the supporters together after dinner today, told them to start asking questions about where they went and why Hadrian’s missing, especially since most of them saw him on the train with us or talked to him before the feast. Put the teachers on the spot, you know? I’ll let you know what they tell us.”

“Sounds good,” Theo answered. Blaise sat back, letting Pucey have room to reach the Floo.

“How’s…how’s Luna doing?” the seventh-year asked, a worried look on his face. Theo knew they had something going on, even if nothing was official.

“Not great,” he answered sadly. “She’s wearing herself out, trying to see what’ll happen. Keeps saying Fate has hidden the end from her Sight.” He sighed. “We’re going to send her back to Hogwarts tonight. She isn’t doing any good here, and she needs to keep of the image of being a Light little airhead.” Pucey visibly relaxed at his words. Theo bid them good luck and closed the connection.

When the flames died down he pulled Draco into his arms, tugging him toward the bed in the guest room they were using. He curled his tall frame around the blond, trying to sooth the tension out of his muscles. Draco had taken the prophecy and the abduction of his Master very hard. He hadn’t spoken since Hadrian had been taken. The glow in his eyes and the runes that still showed through, a full day later, testified to his lasting rage.

“Sleep, Dragon,” he urged, using the name the three of them had used together. “The Dark Lord has the whole Dark side searching for him. Hadrian’s not about to die at Dumbledore’s hands. Remember how many times the Muggles tried to kill him? Even as Hadrian Riddle-Black, he’s the bloody Boy-Who-Refused-To-Die.”

Draco took a deep, shuddering breath, unclenching his muscles. He buried his head into Theo’s chest and let out a dry sob.

“I need him, Thorn,” he whispered into the fabric of his shirt. “I need my Master, my Wizard.”

“I know, Dragon,” Theo whispered back, running his fingers through fine blond hair. “I need him too.”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Bracing his mind for another mental attack, Hadrian gripped the chains around his wrists with white knuckles. He made his shields slick like oil, allowing the attacking probe no purchase. After a few moments, he changed them to act like funhouse mirrors, reflecting grotesque caricatures of his attacker until the man withdrew. With a scream of rage, Albus Dumbledore set another Bludgeoning Hex at his exposed ribcage. Hadrian felt another bone snap, this one dangerously close to his lungs. He coughed up a small amount of blood and spat it in the old wizard’s face.

“I’m not going to break for you, old fool,” he croaked. “You’ve met with my mind before. My mindscape is more impenetrable than the real Azkaban.” He laughed at the frustration and hatred on his opponent’s face.

“ _Crucio!_ ” Hadrian pulled harder at the chains, lifting his feet off the ground. He refused to break for anyone, least of all this sad excuse for a Light Lord. Lord Voldemort couldn’t make him scream in the graveyard during his fourth year, what chance did a Light wizard have? He knew Dumbledore wanted to hear his screams, so he laughed more as his muscles twitched and began to sing a little ditty in German.

“’Rosamunde, schenk mir Dein Herz und sag ja.  
‘Rosamunde, frag doch nicht erst die Mama.  
‘Rosamunde, glaub mir auch ich bin Dir treu.  
‘Denn zur Stunde Rosamunde, ist mein Herz grade noch frei.’”

Dumbledore let the curse go with another shout of anger. Hadrian knew he didn’t want to risk permanent madness, which was why he was playing up the so-called Black insanity, making it look like he teetered on the knife blade of lunacy already. He spat out more blood and laughed again.

“Is that all for today, old man? You’d best run along now, before anyone starts asking questions at school.” The man tossed a Cutting Hex across his chest and stomped toward the door. Hermione came in to keep watch. Hadrian grinned, she was so easy to rile up.

“Evening, Mudblood. Or is it morning?”

“S-Shut up,” she ordered shakily. Her eyes flicked across his bare chest to the cuts and bruises trailing down towards pants hanging dangerously low on his hips. Watching her gaze, Hadrian came up with a new game to play with her. He looked at her through half-lidded eyes, giving a smoldering crooked smile. Pulling on the chains to flex the muscles in his arms, he leaned towards her provocatively.

“Like what you see?” he asked in a low, seductive purr. Her eyes snapped back to his as she blushed bright red. “Finding out something new about yourself?” he prodded. “Do you like me tied up here, completely at your mercy? You could do anything to me, you know. There’s not a thing I could do to stop you. So tell me, love, is the chains or the blood?”

She squeaked, face practically glowing in the dark, and ran for the door.

Hadrian’s delighted laughter echoed off the stone walls of his prison for long minutes.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Alex shared a nervous glance with Adrian Pucey as his knock on Professor McGonagall’s office door. The soft Scottish voice beckoned them in.

“Oh, Mr. Pucey, Mr. Dolohov, I didn’t expect to see you here!” She exclaimed, gesturing to the chairs. “Is there something I can help you with that Professor Snape can’t?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ad answered. “We’ve already asked Professor Snape, and he didn’t know. We would ask the Headmaster, but he isn’t here often enough for us to find him, so we came to the Deputy Headmistress.” He flashed a tentative, vulnerable smile that had Alex admiring his friend’s acting skills.

“Well, I can understand that. What seems to be the trouble?” The best thing about McGonagall was her fairness towards all students. She would dismiss them out of hand just because they wore green and silver. Alex took the chance to speak up, making his tone as worried and scared as possible.

“Well, Professor, we were just wondering if you knew what happened to Hadrian. He just disappeared after the feast last week.” Alex bit his lip, trying to look vulnerable and in need of help to appeal to her Gryffindor need to save. “I know he came back, ‘cause I sat with him on the train and at the feast, and he promised to help me with my Charms work, but nobody’s seen him.”

McGonagall sat back in her chair with a frown. The confusion in her eyes told Alex that Dumbledore hadn’t told his staff anything about his plans. The old coot hadn’t even given an excuse to use in case some of the students asked questions.

“I don’t rightly know, Mr. Dolohov. Next time I see the Headmaster I’ll ask him. I’ll let Professor Snape know what he says, and he can tell you and Mr. Pucey here, alright?” There was genuine concern in her voice. Minerva McGonagall didn’t like the thought of harm befalling any student, no matter what house. Alex nodded.

“Thank you, Professor. That would be great,” Ad told her and they got up. He held the door open for Alex as they left and turned to him as soon as it was shut securely.

“The teachers haven’t got a clue. Looks like we’re on our own here.” Alex sadly agreed.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Waking to pain was becoming a common occurrence in Hadrian’s little world. His little prison had no windows, and there was no way for him to tell how much time had passed since he was abducted. Several times a day, he guessed, either one of the Weasleys or Hermione came in the taunt him about his helplessness. He always mocked them right back, matching insult for insult. They had such beautiful tempers, like oil, and he was a clever match. They didn’t seem to understand that his mind was a fortress, literally, and their words had no chance of reaching him.

It was about two weeks into his captivity, he supposed, that they changed his position. This time when he woke, he found himself forced onto his knees on the stone floor stained with his blood. His legs were still shackled to the floor by short chains, bent beneath him. His wrists, still bound together and chained to the ceiling, were behind his back and tethered as high as possible towards the ceiling. The position pulled painfully on his dislocated shoulders. He might have been able to relieve it by standing up, except that his collar was tethered to the floor on a short chain, not even long enough to sit up fully.

Hadrian bit back a groan at the feeling of his weight pushing broken kneecaps into the stone floor. Blinking back into awareness, the Bone Man ran an inventory of his injuries. Most or all of his ribs were broken. With his magic dampened, they were healing slowly but nothing had punctured a lung yet. All his fingers had been broken in at least one place. His right arm was fractured near his shoulder, his left wrist twisted and sprained. The tendons in his left knee had all been cut to hobble him, just in case. More cuts and gouges than he could count covered his body. His clothes had been shredded long ago, leaving him naked on the cold stone.

Hadrian hadn’t eaten since he had arrived in his prison, but whenever Dumbledore came he gave him water and a few sips of nutrient potion. Just enough to keep him alive. The manipulative goat planned on using him as bait for his father, and he still wanted answers. Whenever he asked what Hadrian had done to Harry Potter, the Bone Man laughed and mocked him in other languages. He was particularly fond of making lewd references to him and Grindlewald in Old English. The old man had recently taken to Legillimency, trying to force his way into Hadrian’s mind for answers. Hadrian always won, but it was tiring him out, with his near-constant blood loss and lack of food.

This time it was apparently Ron’s turn to watch him. The redhead sat in the corner, twirling his wand in one hand. Pure hatred was etched across his face.

“Well, hullo again, Weasel. Still a Blood Traitor?” he greeted cheerily. Ron spat at him.

“Afternoon, Black. Still a murderer and scum?” he returned. Hadrian winked at him.

“Yup. You know, the fact that I’ve killed people isn’t going to change, no matter how long you keep me here.”

“Shut up!” Hadrian got a cut across his cheek for his cheek. He licked the blood away and grinned. Ron blanched. Hadrian was doing an excellent job of faking the infamous Black madness.

“I always did like blood. Such a pretty color, you know? And the taste!” He lowered his voice to a confidential whisper. “You think your girlfriend would let me taste hers? I’ve never had a Mudblood before.”

Ron growled at him, jumping up and striding across the room. He gave Hadrian a hard kick across the jaw and jammed his toe hard into his ribs.

“You just shut up about Hermione. She’s better than you’ll ever be, you Dark bastard.” Hadrian looked up with wide, curious eyes.

“Really? Was her family and blood blessed by a unicorn? Does she have an alliance with the Goblin Nation? Is she stronger than Merlin? Is she the Wizard-Lord, whose coming was foretold over a thousand years ago?” He smirked at Ron’s blank look. “No, that’s all me, isn’t it? Yup, all me.” He jerked his head toward the door as best he could. “Now run off and fetch the goat. I think it’s time he learned a few things about me, don’t you?”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Blaise was woken from a fitful sleep by a bloodcurdling scream. Everyone who was searching for Hadrian, follower or supporter, Dark or Grey, had taken to sleeping in the Room of Requirement. The Room had become a giant dormitory with one room full of beds, two bathrooms (boys and girls), and passages that connected to all the dormitories the students were supposed to sleep in as well as the kitchens. Only Gryffindor Tower wasn’t connected to the Room.

Immediately the Room blazed with lights. Across the dormitory, Luna Lovegood was screaming, thrashing and tangled in the sheets of the bed she shared with Adrian Pucey. Pucey was desperately trying to hold her still when Blaise dashed over and pushed his way through the crowd.

Luna’s eyes were open but unfixed. They were an opaque white, staring at the ceiling without seeing, flicking rapid from side to side.

“Luna. Luna! What is it?!” Pucey was shouting, trying to hold down the blonde. “Luna, WHAT DO YOU SEE?!” She grew still, finally, but her eyes still remained blind to the world around her.

“It’s coming,” she whispered harshly. “The moment is coming, but the ending is still hidden. Chains will break tomorrow night. Blood will flow, and the reaper’s blade with fall. Tomorrow night.”

“Where, Luna?” Blaise demanded. “Where? Where is he?!” She drew in a long breath that rattled in her chest like a Dementor’s.

“Tomorrow night. The ending, the final moment. Tomorrow night,” she repeated, still lost in the visions of Fate.

“WHERE?!” Pucey shouted. Luna’s eyes cleared, turning silver-blue again and fixing on Blaise’s.

“Godric’s Hollow.”

Blaise jumped up, shoving students aside mindlessly as he ran for the secure  connection in the corner. He tossed in the powder and threw himself into the green flames.

“RIDDLE MANOR!”

*** ***

Rabastan paced, pulling at his hair. He hadn’t slept a full night since his arwr had been taken, and it had taken a toll on him over those two weeks. He felt weak and shaky, but he could help himself. He desperately needed Hadrian back in his grasp. Hadrian was his love, his heart, his life. He swore to himself that if he got Hadrian back he would bond with him for enternity.

His Lord sat ramrod straight on the sofa of the sitting room, clutching at Barty with white-knuckled hands. The Dark Lord had run himself ragged directing the search, personally investigating every possible lead. Barty had risked being cursed night after night forcing the Lord into bed to sleep a few hours.

Across the room, Draco and Theo had dark bags under their eyes. Draco had reacted particularly badly to the loss of his Master, barely speaking. Rabastan had heard that he was plagued by nightmares that woke Theo as well, since they shared a bed now. The two had found some form of solace in each other. In the moments when Rabastan allowed himself to think about the future, he guessed they would probably stay together if – when – Hadrian returned, leaving his arwr to him entirely.

Near them, Bella cried into a very pale Rodolphus’s shoulder as he held his wife. Bella and Rudo had always wanted a child. Even without being really theirs, Hadrian had been a blessing to them. Bella was such a loving mother, and Rudo was immensely proud of his step-son.

“You’re sure?” The Dark Lord croaked into the silence, questioning the Zabini boy who had come rushing into the Manor with news.

“Yes,” the Italian boy answered shortly. “I don’t think you’ll be able to find him until ‘the moment’ comes, whatever that is. He’s probably hidden behind war wards, maybe underground. If I were you, I’d be set up in Godric’s Hollow, ready for tomorrow night, so you can overwhelm them.”

“Very well. Thank you,” the Lord dismissed the boy shortly, leaving to put together a plan of attack.

“Could Luna see anything else?” Theo asked desperately. Blaise shook his head sadly.

“Nothing she hasn’t seen before. Blood, pain, death, hidden ending. We’re on our own.”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

A sharp slap across the face woke Hadrian suddenly. Albus Dumbledore stood before him, triumph lighting his eyes.

“Lord Black, I believe you have some information for me?” Hadrian smirked at the self-satisfied tone. The goat really believed he had won. He didn’t think that Hadrian could keep holding up, that he was just bored, which was what was actually happening.

“Ah, yes, Headmaster. I think we’ll start with some background on me, alright? Please, sit.” He jerked his head towards the chair in the corner as best he could. Dumbledore settled primly on the hard wooden seat, directing his wand toward Hadrian with a steady hand.

“Begin.” Hadrian nodded and licked his lips. This was going to be fun.

“Once upon a time,” he began with a smirk, “there was a very unhappy little boy. He didn’t have a family, see, not really. He lived with a family of filthy Muggles that called him Freak and Monster and kept him in a cupboard under the stairs.” A faint flash of recognition in Dumbledore’s eyes made him grin. “In fact, this little boy didn’t even know he had a normal name until he started school.

“Then, the magic started. This little boy knew nothing about magic. All he knew was that sometimes, strange things happened that made his Muggle relatives beat him. When this little boy turned eleven, someone came and told him he wasn’t a Freak or Monster, he was a wizard! There was a reason for all the things he could do! They took him to another world, one where everyone knew his name, where he was special and loved. Or so he thought.

“Then, that person took him back to the filthy Muggles. That was the first time his Uncle cut his throat open, the first time his own family really tried to kill him.” Hadrian coughed through his dry throat, enjoying the pale color of the old coot’s skin. The wand hand was still steady, though. He would have to change that.

“I think you know the main points of the story, Headmaster, but let me fill in a few points for you. Just to give you the full picture, you know.

“This little boy saved the world at the age of eleven, just like everyone expected him to. Then, he begged his Headmaster to stay in the school. This poor little boy knew his family would just try to kill him again. But the Headmaster said no, told him he was _safest with those Muggles!_

“So he went ‘home’ to those filth. And his Uncle cut his throat again and waited a week for him to die. Then they beat him and burned him and bled him for the rest of the summer, until he went back to school and saved the useless, incompetent magical world, _again_.” He paused to smirk at the old man, who was positively grey by that point. “Do you know this boy’s name yet, sir?”

“Harry Potter,” Dumbledore whispered brokenly.

“The very same! And you know, he found out about all your little schemes and he hated you for them. All those blocks on his magic, keeping him your little Light pawn, your human shield. The Dementors found them, and they just,” Hadrian ignored the burning of the collar as he gathered his magic, shattering the chain leading from his neck to the floor with a sharp tug, “ _broke_ them. All your restrictions on his core, your blocks on his blood heritage, keeping him from communing with Hogwarts,” he snapped the shackles on his legs, “ _gone_.”

“I- I don’t know what…” Dumbledore stuttered, wand hand shaking. Hadrian gave a cold smile, clenching his jaw against the burning pain of the white-hot color. Vaguely he noticed it smelled like roast beef.

“Oh, I think you do. You, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, tried to hold down a wizards stronger than Merlin. You tried to hinder a wizard whose coming was foretold by the races a thousand years ago. You tried to turn the Wizard-Lord into your pawn.” He broke the chain on his wrists into a million slivers of iron, then lashed out with his mind, pressing Dumbledore down and immobilizing him. **And he will not forgive you.**

Dumbledore cried out at the force of his statement, spoken with his thoughts and voice.

“Harry…Harry, please,” he gasped. “What have you done, Harry?”

**What I should have done long ago, Headmaster. I trained with the Dementors within Azkaban itself and took my rightful place as their Wizard-Lord. With the goblins’ assistance, I claimed the titles you hid from me, and I declared Harry Potter dead.** He took hold of the collar with both hands, ignoring the instant burns on his palms, and shattered it with a burst of pure power.

Magic rushed through his body. He could feel the pain of cuts, bruises and broken bones fading, and he cast a glamour that would hide his injuries away, making them look healed. With two massive pops, his shoulders were forced back into place, followed by his wrist. He created a sheath or pure magic around his knee with the ligaments cut, allowing him to stand and walk normally. Hadrian allowed his power to roll through the room, turning the air ice-cold. Puddles of his blood on the floor froze over, frost gathered on the stone walls of his prison. His breath hung in an icy curtain before his face. He stood, rolling out his neck and shoulders.

**I took control of my magic and my life. I gathered faithful followers, and I joined the right side of this foolish war you created. The Light always used me, loving or hating me depending on the day of the week. You told me to save a world that made no effort to save itself. You made me sacrifice myself. You threw me to filthy Muggles that tried to kill me. They cut my throat once a summer. My Uncle tried to carve my heart out more times than I can count. Did you tell them to do it, to keep me weak and pliable? I killed them this summer, you know. Does that make you proud, Headmaster?**

**Imagine my wonder when I found a different world in Azkaban of all places! Where I found the Dementors, who will always follow me loyally. Where I found the knowledge of criminals was greater than any I had ever seen in the Light. Where I found a man who loves me despite my past, not becase of it.**

**So I killed Harry Potter, and then I joined the Dark. The Dark loves me for who I am, not for some name I carry. In the Dark I have a real family and friends. I have a wonderful mother in Bellatrix Lestrange. I have a proud step-father in her husband. I have clever, wonderful friend in my father’s consort, Barty Crouch, Jr.** Hadrian chuckled at the old man’s gasp. **Oh, didn’t I tell you? I knew who Barty was the whole time, just like he knew who I really was. The Dementors gave me his soul, and I kept it safe in my mindscape while the Ministry so kindly took care of his body in Azkaban. I put him back together for my father, who loves me fiercely. I’ve never seen love like my family has in the Light.**

**In the Dark, I am respected for being me. I made a name for myself on my own power, a name that is whispered in fear in every house in Britain.**

Hadrian pushed power into his runes, lighting up his skeleton Killing Curse green in the dim room.

**I am the Bone Man, the Wizard-Lord, Lord Black, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, and your life is forfeit to mine.**

Bringing his hands together in a sharp clap, Hadrian let out enough power to shatter the wards hiding his prison from the world. His father would be able to find him now. With a bloodthirsty grin, he wrapped Dumbledore up in conjured chains and levitated him out the door.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Magic swept in a powerful wave across Godric’s Hollow, cresting and breaking against the Dark forces assembled on the outskirts. The front ranks dropped as though hit by stunners. Voldemort gasped as the familiar power of it struck him hard in the chest, making him stagger. Around him, eyes went wide as the teens and the Lestrange family began to smile and whisper.

“Hadrian! He’s coming!”

“He’s alright!”

“We can find him now!”

“Silence!” he ordered. The Dark Lord had his gaze fixed on a small house near the center of the village. Wards were melting around it, glowing blood-red and sickly yellow to his magical sight. “There,” he pointed. “Draco, Theo, Rabastan, with me. Barty, Rodolphus, Bella, wait fifteen minutes before you follow. Lucius, maintain command here.”

“Yes, my Lord,” everyone bowed, acquiescing. Voldemort drew his yew and holly wands, and he and the four members of the first group apparated away to the little house.

Arriving on the edge of the property, they watched as the last of the wards shattered into glittering shards of energy. The mental presence they had all been missing rolled outward, sinking into their minds and filling them with borrowed rage. Hadrian’s magic was too angry to allow them near the house. It lashed out, forcing them to their knees. Voldemort could only watch helplessly from the dirt as the door opened.

Framed in the doorway was the Bone Man in all his glory. Naked, his thousands of runes shone bright _Avada Kedavra_ green through his skin, his magic whipping an artic wind around him. He was a being of power and destruction, of rage and pain and vengeance, a Dark god on earth. He was glorious and beautiful, and Voldemort had never loved his son more than in that moment.

Seeing the five wizards bowing under his power, Hadrian reached back into the doorway. He threw a bound and petrified body through the door, letting it fall casually on the dirt.

**Albus Dumbledore, Father,** his son informed them in a tired voice. Then he collapsed.

*** ***

Rabastan clenched the bedpost with white-knuckled hands as Narcissa and Pucey worked on the thin, broken boy lying still and silent under the covers. When Narcissa had done the diagnostic spells she had turned alarmingly white and sat down quickly before her knees collapsed. She had not spoken since then, except to give directions to young Pucey.

Finally, sweaty and grey-skinned, they finished casting spells and pouring potions down Hadrian’s throat. Pucey helped the Lady Malfoy into a nearby chair and summoned an elf to bring her a cup of tea.

“Is he…?” Rabastan found himself unable to finish the question. Hadrian had collapsed in Godric’s Hollow, but visibly he had seemed alright. It was not until he was safe in bed that the Dark Lord had noticed the glamours. He had nearly exhausted himself stripping them away, but he managed to reveal the broken, mangled mess hidden beneath incredibly powerful spells. Cuts, bruises, broken bones…Rabastan had nearly been sick at the sight.

“If it were anyone else in that bed, I would say no. In fact, if it were anyone else, they probably would have given up and died a week ago, but it’s Hadrian. He’s survived so much, he’ll probably survive this too,” the Lady Healer’s voice was weary and incredulous. Rabastan allowed himself to relax somewhat. His sigh of relief was echoed by the other Malfoys, Theo, Bella and the Dark Lord. Barty dashed out of the room to tell everyone else the good news.

“How bad was it?” the Dark Lord questioned tightly.

“Very,” Narcissa replied with a blank face. She listed off his wounds in a detached voice. “All his ribs were broken at least once, as were his fingers. Both knees were dislocated at some point and his kneecaps shattered. Both shoulders showed signs of having been pulled out of their joints for an extended period. Connective tissue there and in his left wrist is stretched and torn. One of his arms has a serious fracture near the shoulder. All the ligaments in his left knee were cut through.” She blew out a shaky breath. “Technically, he shouldn’t have been able to walk out of that house. It’s a miracle he could summon the strength to hold his knee in place to stand at all. He shows evidence of prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse, repeated attacks on his mind, and…and it’s my belief that the burns around his neck were caused by a magic suppression collar.”

“Oh, my little arwr,” Rabastan whispered, brushing gentle fingers across the bandages covering the charred skin on Hadrian’s neck, “they’ll die for what they’ve done to you.”

“Indeed they shall,” the Dark Lord promised. “Narcissa, when can we expect him to wake?”

“I can’t tell, my Lord,” Lady Malfoy murmured. “Normally, I would say in about five days, as that’s when his body will be fully healed, but Hadrian has always been stubborn. He might wake up tomorrow morning, or he might be hidden behind Occlumency shields and not wake for a month or more. It all depends on the mental damage he’s taken, but I am no Legillimens. I can’t tell how much damage that manipulative bastard caused trying to force information from his mind.”

The Dark Lord growled at her words, and Rabastan agreed. How dare that fool try to rape his arwr’s mind? As Lucius ushered everyone from the room, Rabastan settled himself obstinately on the bed beside his broken lover, refusing to leave him alone again. The Dark Lord doused the lights and closed the door, and the stubborn wizard closed his eyes to his first restful sleep in weeks.

*** ***

Voldemort looked down at the ragged man sleeping in his cell. He woke the worthless man with a sharp kick.

“My, how the mighty have fallen, Albus,” he sneered down at the man.

“You’ve made a mistake, Tom,” the man croaked. “They will be coming for me, and you cannot stop the Light.”

“No, YOU have made the mistake!” he roared before pulling his temper back with effort. “Taking my Hadrian, my _son_ , was an act of war. Until now, I have been quiet. I have not ordered major raids or wholesale slaughter, as you would have the Ministry believe. Now, because of you, the Ministry will fall, as will Hogwarts. As soon as Hadrian is awake, the orders will go out. You will watch your world fall from inside this cell, and then you will die beside those students who helped you and _dared_ lay hands on my son.” He smiled coldly at the prospect. “I daresay Hadrian will put on a show.”

Albus looked at him in confusion, his eyes clouded with pain and exhaustion. The Dark Lord laughed.

“Yes, the Bone Man will enjoy his toys while they last. He did explain that, didn’t he? Hadrian Riddle-Black, the Bone Man, one and the same. Remember Emmeline Vance? Amelia Bones? The Bone Man is a master in a field of one, an artist. My faithful will enjoy the spectacle.”

“Oh, Tom, what have you done to Harry?” the man questioned sadly. Voldemort clenched his hands inside his sleeves to keep from cursing the fool.

“I have done nothing that was not set up by you!” he growled. “You set up the false prophecy in the beginning. You sent me after Harry Potter, hoping we would destroy each other. Do not think to compare what I have done, what Hadrian has _forgiven_ , to what _you_ have done to my son these past weeks!”

“I have done nothing to Harry Potter,” sniffed the fool haughtily. Voldemort’s echoing laugh was high and cold, without an ounce of real humor.

“Still deluding yourself, Albus? That boy was Harry Potter! He has changed his name and renounced his blood, but his soul is the same. He still has memories of growing up in a cupboard under the stairs, just because you claimed there were ‘blood protections’! There’s no such thing! I failed to kill him as you wished because he is favored by Fate and Magic. I went against the strongest wizard Magic has _ever_ created, and I lost!” He crouched down to whisper to the worthless fool. “Hadrian forgave me, and I love him for it. Ask yourself, _old friend_ : how likely is he to forgive you?”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

The outer wall of Azkaban was pockmarked with cracks and deep gouges. For all that Hadrian’s mind had seemed impenetrable, the Headmaster’s attacks had actually caused a fair amount of damage. The sea around the prison roiled with Hadrian’s anger, and thunderstorms raged in the sky overhead. Hadrian himself, along with his Dementor charges, was circling to outer wall. He was beginning the long process of putting his mind back together again.

It was no easy task. The cracks and holes could only be healed by him, but each one cause pain whenever he touched it. The Dementor souls in his mindscape could only offer him their energy and their support.

When he wasn’t working on the wall, he was building a pair of special cells deep underground. In one, he hid his memories of being Harry Potter in the wizarding world: every time someone called him Potter or the Boy-Who-Lived, every time his father had tried to kill him, every time people looked to him to save them without lifting a finger themselves.

In the other cell went the memories of his torture at the hands of Albus Dumbledore. These memories he created copies of, making sure they were as detailed and accurate as possible. It was these memories he would show the people who doubted his claims and stood by the old fool’s claim of innocence.

The two cells had taken a long time to complete, though Hadrian couldn’t be sure of how long. Just like in his prison, time had no real meaning in his mind. Hours or days or mere minutes could have passed since he collapsed in the doorway of the old Dumbledore home in Godric’s Hollow.

Hadrian sighed and braced himself for the wave of pain as he stuck his hand in another hole in the wall and began to seal it.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

The Ministry and Hogwarts were in a panic, and Voldemort was laughing.

Albus Dumbledore was gone, missing, vanished, and no one seemed to know how or why, though the papers were full of speculation.

“They’ll know why soon enough,” the Dark Lord laughed to himself as he tossed aside the last paper Severus had brought him. He turned to the dark-haired man with an evil smirk on his face. “Severus, I want you to write a letter to the editor of the Daily Prophet. Tell them about Hadrian Riddle-Black’s disappearance from school last month, and how Dumbledore refused to answer questions about it. Tell them how he was found in the Dumbledore family home in Godric’s Hollow. Describe the state you found him in.” Severus bowed his head at the order, but paused.

“My Lord, they are not likely to believe me. Dumbledore is an icon to them,” he argued logically. Voldemort agreed, but he had a solution already.

“They will believe you if you include a written magical oath of your truthfulness, signed in blood. You will write only the truth about what happened, but you will not say everything you know. Bring the letter to me when you have finished.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

Voldemort sat back as Severus swept away. It was time to begin his plans. Hadrian’s body was healed. His son would wake soon, and when he did, the world would fall to the Dark.

*** ***

Rabastan was reading Severus’s letter to the editor when he felt the body next to him stir. Throwing the paper to the side, he clutched the boy’s hands tightly.

“Hadrian?” he whispered, hardly daring to believe it. Slowly, achingly slow, Hadrian’s mind rolled over his. Rabastan could have cried with joy.

//Dihiryn?// came the quiet question. He let out a sob of relief.

“Arwr,” he breathed, holding the boy tightly to his chest. “Can you look at me, Hadrian? Let me so those gorgeous mismatched eyes of your?”

Hadrian’s eyelids fluttered, then blinked rapidly and squinted. His gaze sought out his lovers, stilling when it met deep blue orbs shining with love and happiness.

“Rabastan,” he smiled weakly. “Dihiryn…”

Rabastan just held him close, intending to never let him go again.

*** ***

Theo’s hand slipped on the card, sending his house of cards fluttering to the table. Draco looked up from his book at Theo’s wide eyes with confusion.

“Wha-“ He cut himself of as he felt a presence in his mind. It was weak, but it was warm and safe and comforting and he’d missed it so much.

//Hello, Dragon. Hello, Thorn.//

Draco whipped around to face the door, book falling carelessly from limp hands.

“Hadrian?” Theo asked. There he was in the doorway, leaning heavily on Rabastan’s shoulder. He looked tired and aged, but he was alive and that was all that mattered.

“My Master,” Draco threw himself on his knees before Hadrian, afraid that he would break if he hugged him. Hadrian just chuckled.

“Have you missed me, Dragon?” He kissed Draco on the brow, then did the same for Theo, who knelt beside him. “Come, let’s go tell my father I’m alright so he can stop feeling bad about me and start having sex with Barty again.” He tossed them an exasperated look over his shoulder. “Poor man hasn’t been laid in fifteen years, I’m not about to prolong his dry spell.”

Taking Theo’s hand, Draco laughed and followed his friend and master.

*** ***

The Dark Lord nearly spat out his afternoon tea all over Barty when he felt Hadrian in his mind. As it was, he did choke on it a bit, prompting Barty to thump him on the back a bit. Barty found this hilarious.

He had been just as worried as everyone else. Even if no one had known it, Barty counted the Bone Man as his best friend. That happens sometimes when you live in someone’s mindscape for over a year, after all. He had been there through it all when Hadrian had dealt with the detentions from the Umbridge bitch, with her lines and her blood quill and her stupid painted kitten plates. He had been there when the Muggles had tried to carve out Hadrian’s heart, when they cut that word into his back, making sure he never forgot it. Barty was the voice in his head, the friend no one could ever take away. He was proud he would be able to count the boy as his son very soon.

He had only a glimpse of the boy, supported by Rabastan and looking tired but happy, before he was engulfed in the cloak of the Dementor King. Everyone in the room stared, surprised by such a show of emotion from the creature.

“My Wizard!” the King murmured, hugging the boy tightly. Hadrian laughed.

“Greetings to you too, Great Royal,” he said, hugging the creature back. Barty reached over and closed his lover’s mouth before anyone spotted the Dark Lord with his jaw on the floor.

“Hadrian! What are you doing out of bed?” he scolded lightly, stepping up to hug the young wizard next as the Dementor King released him.

“Oh, my son. It’s so good to see you awake,” the Dark Lord murmured, wrapping them both in his long arms.

*** ***

Albus Dumbledore looked up when the door to the dungeons opened, abandoning his endless mental recitation of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood. Two sets of footsteps moved closer until he could see the owners, upside-down from his position, laying on his back on the floor.

“Afternoon, Professor,” Black greeted genially. Albus glared at him. “Oh, now, don’t be like that, Professor! After all, isn’t my hospitality as good as yours? In fact, it might even be better. After all, you can still move. No one’s put a collar on you and chained _you_ up, like some kind of _animal!”_

The pale, thin man beside Black looked at him with wide eyes.

“He did what?” Black waved away his questions.

“Not now, Barty. Oh, how forgetful of me! You’ve met Barty, haven’t you, Professor? Just the once, when you questioned him and then ordered him Kissed, if I recall.” Crouch blanched, and Black wrapped a gentle arm around his waist. “Hush, Barty, I know,” he murmured. Albus sneered at the sight.

“Another toy, Black? Do you fall on your back for anyone on the Dark side now?” he taunted, trying to be strong. He watched with faint trepidation as Black’s dark eye turned red. Both eyes glowed with his power.

“Now, Professor, that wasn’t very nice, was it? Barty here and my father are devoted to each other, and I would sooner die than sleep with the Dark Lord’s Consort. And, not that it’s any of your business, but I’ll have you know that the Dark would fall over themselves to fall on their backs for me, but my standards are better than that. _Crucio_.” Albus writhed and screamed at the pain of the curse for a moment before it was lifted. “I think you should learn to mind your words around me, Headmaster. I came down here to give you some information you might find useful, after all.”

“Are you…are you helping me, Harry?” he gasped out, snatching at the hope Black’s words gave him, trying to remind him of the boy he had once been. A boot collided with his stomach in response.

“Don’t. Ever. Call. Me. That. Again,” Black ground out. Crouch put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, calming him. “Now, I came down here to tell you that everything you know has ended. The world you manipulated is over.”

“No!” cried the old wizard. Black smirked.

“Yes. The Ministry fell two days ago. Hogwarts fell yesterday. Lucius Malfoy is Minister, and Severus Snape is Headmaster. My Lord Father has replaced you as Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot,” Black informed him coldly.

“Are you going to kill me now?” Albus asked seriously. Black and Crouch laughed.

“Kill you? Yes, but not yet. You haven’t had your trial yet, see? You will stand trial before the full court of the Wizengamot for your crimes, and I will supply my memories as evidence. There really isn’t any doubt that you’ll be found guilty. Then, my father will sentence you to death, and I will carry out the sentence as my restitution.” Albus felt faint.

“Have mercy,” he begged. Black sneered.

“The only mercy I will show will be in allowing you to die in the end. You didn’t even show me that, when I was chained to the floor in your basement. With you suppressing my magic, it might have even worked.” He spun on his heel and left, but stopped at the door and tossed one last remark over his shoulder. “Hermione, Ron, and Ginny will stand trial with you. Remember that your actions will end up sentencing three school children to death as well.” And he was gone, the door swinging shut with a bang.

*** ***

“Ronald Billius Weasley, Ginerva Molly Weasley, and Hermione Jean Granger, you stand accused of the torture and captivity of Lord Gallus Hadrian Riddle-Black. How do you plead?”

Voldemort’s voice was cold as Ron struggled in his chair, chained to the arms and legs. He refused to speak, spitting at the bastard instead. If only Harry hadn’t up and fucking died, everything would have gone alright. Voldemort would have been killed, Harry would have sacrificed himself, and Ron and his family would have split his money.

“Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, you have seen the evidence in the memories of Lord Black. Does anyone here dispute the guilt of the three accused?”

Not a single hand was raised. Eyes around the courtroom stared at them with cold hatred.

“Then the accused are found guilty. Ronald Billius Weasley, you are sentenced to death at the hand of the Bone Man at his earliest convenience.  What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Fuck you! That bastard son of yours deserved it!” Ron struggled to shout more as he was hit with a silencing spell.

“Ginerva Molly Weasley, you are sentenced to death at the hand of the Bone Man at his earliest convenience. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“You only won ‘cause Harry’s dead! If he was here you’d be dead!” Ginny screamed, tears running down her face.

“My Lord Father, if I may?” Black asked from his seat nearby. Voldemort nodded, and Black cast a silencing barrier around himself, Ron, and Ginny. Ron glared at him, and Ginny opened and closed her mouth wordlessly. Black had silenced them both.

“You think Harry Potter would save you? Harry Potter is the reason you’re here, yes, but not the way you’re thinking,” he told them coldly. “Harry Potter vanished from the train last year and went to Gringotts. You know he claimed his titles and vaults, but did you know he also declared himself legally dead?” Ron and Ginny stared at him with wide eyes, making him chuckle darkly.

“Harry James Potter declared himself legally dead and took a new name. You know what he chose? Gallus. Hadrian. Black.” Ron went limp, realizing everything he had done at last. “You used Harry Potter as a tool, and when he tried to escape it all and follow his destiny and his ideals, you tortured him. Think about everything you’ve done to Harry Potter, to me, and then try to look me in the eyes when I kill you.”

Black released the barrier, but Ron and Ginny remained silenced as he returned to his seat and nodded curtly to Voldemort.

“Hermione Jean Granger, for your lesser involvement, you are sentenced to life in Azkaban. May Death have mercy on your soul, because the Dementors certainly won’t.”

“So mote be it,” answered every member of the Wizengamot, sealing their fates.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

The Bone Man looked down on his prey with a predatory smile, cold and wild. Ginny whimpered at the icy feeling of his mind on hers.

“Such a pretty toy. The girl who would be Lady Potter, Lady Black.” He scoffed. “They could have picked someone more refined to try for marriage to a Most Ancient and Noble House. Someone more _male_ might have gone over better.” He laughed at Ginny’s affronted look. “Yes, you never had a chance with me. Wrong bits entirely.

“Now, how shall we begin? I know! We’ll start with your magic first.” With a single hard pull, Hadrian ripped the magic from her core. If he let her be at this point, she would be a Squib for the rest of her life.

Ginny screamed.

“Hush, dear, we haven’t even done all that much yet. I think, for you, your death will be quick,” he mused. “How about this; I’ll kill you just as soon as you look me in the eyes and think about everything you’ve done to me, someone who once counted you a friend,” he decided. “Come on, Ginny dear, look at me. Remember when I saved you from the Basilisk? Remember when we went to the World Cup? Look at me!”

Fearful brown eyes met his, and he snapped her neck between his hands. She died instantly. Hadrian stepped back and wandlessly set fire to her body before looking at Ron. The redhead stood bound and silenced on the sidelines, held up by his brothers Fred and George. Hadrian grinned at the Fire Gemini.

//How shall I entertain you tonight, my Fire Gemini?//

“Kill him slowly, Master,” the twins spoke together, bowing.

“Then I shall.” He stalked toward Ron, thoroughly enjoying his wide, rolling eyes with the white visible all the way around. He stated breaking bones, one at a time, beginning with his fingers and toes.

“How about you, Ron? Was it really that hard to be my friend, that you had to be paid in the end? I never had a friend before you, you know. Side effect of growing up in a cupboard with a bully of a cousin that ran everyone off.” He shrugged, dismissing the past. He snapped Ron’s lower legs, then the bones in his forearms. “Can you look me in the eyes? Remember that first day on the train. Remember when I saved your only sister. Remember when we snuck into the Slytherin dungeons Polyjuiced as Crabbe and Goyle. Remember everything you did to me while I was hung from the ceiling in Dumbledore’s basement and _look me in the eyes while I kill you!”_

He waited, snapping ribs one by one. As soon as Ron’s pained blue eyes flashed up to his, he snapped the final rib and plunged it into his lungs. Then he stepped back and joined Fred and George in watching their little brother drown in his own blood.

“Any regrets?” he asked them.

“None,” they replied together. “When’s Dumbledore?”

“Tonight, at the full meeting,” he answered, then the only sound was Ron’s wheezing as he slowly died.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Voldemort sat on his throne in the Reception Hall, Barty to his left and an empty seat on his right. The rightful occupant was on the floor below the dais, circling a screaming old man. This was the event the Dark ranks had longed for and gathered to see: the execution of Albus Dumbledore. Hadrian released Albus from the Cruciatus Curse, speaking aloud for all to hear.

“Oh, hush now, old friend. I never screamed while you tortured me. How can you beg for mercy when I’m only returning a favor? Oh, now, none of that! I’ll have to take away your magic if you try to kill me like that! Wandless Killing Curses are so difficult, aren’t they, Albus?”

There was a snap of power in the room that meant Hadrian had stripped Dumbledore’s core from him.

“There, that’s better! After all, why should you get your magic when you kept me from mine? Now, how shall we begin?” Hadrian raised his head to address the assembled Death Eaters. “Tell me, my friends, which bones shall he lose first?”

Answers were shouted out gleefully and Hadrian chuckled.

“Very well, my friends. Dear Albus, Rodolphus Lestrange would like to see you without fingers.” Unlike his usual kills, the Bone Man ripped Albus’s fingers through his flesh, leaving gaping wounds to pool blood on the floor.

“Thorfinn Rowle wishes me to remove your kneecaps.” The old man’s knees joined his fingers in a pile on the floor. Albus screamed.

And so it went.

“Antonin Dolohov desires me to take out your shins.” A scream and a violent twitch.

“Lucius Malfoy wants to see your feet whole outside your body.” Another scream.

“Severus Snape expresses a burning need to see the wand arm that defeated Gellert Grindlewald all those years ago.” Beyond screaming, Albus could only whimper and twitch. The pile of blood-soaked bones grew.

“My dear mother Bellatrix Lestrange would like the chance to examine your skull and possibly keep it in a curio cabinet. Barty Crouch, wishes to have a chance with your ribcage in its whole form. It is my belief that he harbors some strange desire to use it as a xylophone.” The assembled Death Eaters laughed at the image Hadrian painted in their heads. The Dark Lord’s son was an excellent orator. “As it is my wish to end you, I think I shall indulge them. Just remember, Albus Dumbledore,” his voice dropped dangerously low, “I’m showing mercy by killing you.”

Then he tore the remaining bones free from the old man’s body. Blood sprayed for a moment from the pile of meat that was once Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

On a clear summer day, shortly after Hadrian’s seventeenth birthday, the Bonding Ceremony took place. Hadrian looked into Rabastan’s deep blue eyes and spoke the binding words.

“So I swear, so mote be it.”

Magic glowed, sending off sparks as his dihiryn swept him up and kissed him deeply.

On the dance floor later, Gallus Hadrian Riddle-Black, Lord Black, clung to his new husband, Rabastan William Lestrange-Black, Consort Black. Around them swirled their family and friends. His father and Barty had bonded mere days after the death of Albus Dumbledore in a beautiful ceremony talked about for weeks in the paper. Apparently seeing the Dark Lord as married man and doting husband and father had been the push many needed to change their minds. Resistance movements had been few and far between since.

Blaise and Daphne Zabini (nee Greengrass) were dancing gracefully nearby. They had been married almost as soon as school had ended, just over a month before. Blaise had finally relented and taken the Bone Sign. He had a very promising position waiting for him as Junior Assistant to the Minister. Lucius Malfoy admired his gift with politicians, something that came from his neutral background. Daphne was looking forward to raising lots of little Zabinis.

Draco and Theo were next to Hadrian and Rabastan, holding each other happily. Draco would spend the next year learning his administrative duties under Headmaster Snape before the Potions Master stepped down. He would be supported in the years to come by Minerva McGonagall as Deputy Headmistress, who had taken the changes quite gracefully. Theo was rising quickly in the Department of Secrecy, a new branch of the Ministry dedicated to sealing off the magical world from Muggle knowledge.

Seated at one of the tables, Adrian Pucey was talking quietly to his fiancée, Luna Lovegood. Ad was training as a Healer and apprenticing with Madam Pomfrey. He had high hopes of being Head Healer at St. Mungo’s one day. Luna had the job of Professor of Divination waiting for her to finish her last year of school.

Over by the buffet, probably doing something alarming to the cheese cubes, Fred and George Weasley were huddled together. Voldemort had wisely put them on the Committee for Experimental Magic as liaisons to the Department of Mysteries. If their mother was still speaking to them, she would have been proud of them for getting Ministry jobs, even without NEWTs. As it was, their older brothers were. Percy had reconciled with them. The former Head Boy was Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge having met her end at the hands of the Bone Man for her crimes against Magic, while Bill and Charlie Weasley happily kept their old jobs. Watching the Fire Gemini, Hadrian reminded himself to check over any food before he ate it, lest he turn into a toad or find his hair missing or something similar.

Hadrian found himself pulled from his husband’s arms as the music changed.

“Can you spare a dance for your poor mum?” Bella asked sweetly. Hadrian laughed as he twirled his mother across the floor. Rudo and Rabastan laughed at the surprised look on her face when he dipped her without warning.

Hadrian thoroughly enjoyed being Bonded.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

“How’s Rabastan?” Draco asked as Hadrian joined him for tea in the Headmaster’s sitting room at Hogwarts.

“Busy, as he likes to remind me. Apparently it’s no cakewalk being Head of the DMLE.” Draco snorted.

“So he’s just left you behind to deal with the children like a good little housewife?” Hadrian gave his friend a half-hearted glare over his teacup.

“Yes, Cygnus and Adhara are doing well, thank you for asking,” he replied sarcastically, “though you see more of them than I do, what with them in school and all. Haldus is still trying to convince me to support his idea of covering himself in moving tattoos.” He rolled his eyes.

“Like you can talk, Bone Man!” Draco chuckled.

“Shut up,” Hadrian mumbled into his tea. “How’re Theo and Scorpius?”

“Theo’s probably just as busy as Rabastan. Scorp still wants me to get him into school a year early.” Draco rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Honestly, I’ve never met such an impatient nine-year-old. At least I can always count on Daph to watch him, or Luna in a pinch. Did you hear she’s pregnant?”

“She warned me last year,” Hadrian smirked. Draco muttered something that sounded like “bloody Seers” under his breath and he laughed. “Poor Ad, just making Head Healer and now a baby on the way! A toast to his joy, and a moment of silence for the last of his sanity and sleep!” Hadrian raised his teacup mockingly and Draco joined him.

“Father’s thinking about retiring in the next couple years,” Draco informed him.

“He thinking about Percy Weasley as his replacement?” Hadrian asked, and the blond nodded. Percy was the Minister’s right hand. He would win the election by a landslide.

“Got anything planned for your father’s anniversary? Fifteen years next month.” Hadrian nodded.

“Yeah, the whole Riddle-Black-Lestrange clan’s spending a week at Slytherin’s Keep, off the coast of Wales. My father and Barty can try to christen every surface in the castle, and I’ll pass out blindfolds and tell everyone to knock before they enter any room.” Draco choked on his tea.

“How do they only have one kid? They should have dozens by now!” Hadrian rolled his eyes again.

“Don’t ask me. I love little Miera, but I’m glad I don’t have any more siblings. She more hyper than any fourteen-year-old should ever be. She wears out my kids on the holidays just trying to keep up with her.”

They both laughed and let the conversation fall, enjoying tea and the mutual company of an old friend. Hadrian tossed back the dregs in his cup and stood.

“Sorry I can’t stay longer, Dragon. The Head Unspeakable wants to meet with me about an ancient text he’s found, then I have dinner with Castor Selwyn and the new Director of Gringotts.” He grimaced at the thought of the caves where he met with representatives of the Goblin Nation. Draco chuckled.

“Little Alex Dolohov, huh? I don’t see him nearly enough. My love to Rabastan and Haldus.”

“Same to Thorn and Scorpius,” replied Hadrian as he stepped into the Floo.

Fifteen years since the old regime fell. Fifteen years since the Wizard-Lord rose to power. Fifteen years of peace and all was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rosamunde is a real German song. I didn't make it up. My German isn't that good. Though I appreciate the compliment if you thought I did!

**Author's Note:**

> Sentio inedia - feel starvation  
> Discutio quisque osse - shatter every bone  
> Remaneo conscia -stay conscious


End file.
